


Ghosts of the Heart

by MonkOfTheNorth



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluffy, M/M, Necromancy, OC, Tengu, a little dark, has a plot (shocker)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:45:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonkOfTheNorth/pseuds/MonkOfTheNorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek, needing help to track down a mysterious scent of mountain flowers and death, goes to Stiles for assistance. After finding the source, the pack is on their guard against powerful magics and mysterious ghosts. But other problems spring up for the pack after they butt heads with and unknown group of hunters, problems that come in the form of a type of werecreature the group has never seen before. Stiles and Derek find something in the midst of the chaos, but with their attention turned to the werecreatures, they lower their guard against the source of the mysterious scent. Will they be able to survive one of their most threatening challenges yet, or will the pressure tear the group to shreds? And what will become of Stiles Derek?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burt's

Stiles’ eyes squinted suspiciously at his bed, covers in hand. It was the third week in a row that he woke up to the right side of his bed tousled and warm. He didn’t know why, he made it a point to only ever sleep on the left. It was his good side of the bed. Maybe he had taken to thrashing around in his sleep, he didn’t know. He was taken out of his thoughts by the fact that he simply stopped caring about three seconds before. It was Saturday, which meant no school! He leapt from his bed and pulled on a grass-green tee-shirt and some old jeans over his Green Lantern boxers and hopped down the stairs, happily, with a huge smile after quickly brushing his teeth, not even bothering with a shower. 

Oh, the things that day would bring! He was so excited for it to start that he quickly grabbed a bagel as breakfast and flew out the door, completely blazing by the routine “I’ve gone to work and I’m going to be home late” note his dad left. He opened the door to his jeep and hopped inside, making the car bounce. He was so excited and he didn’t know why! All he knew was that today was going to be awesome! It had to be! The first thing he was going to do was!... was… He absentmindedly tapped the bagel against his head in deep thought. What was he going to do today?

He had just remembered he had nothing to do…at all! His eyes stared at the garage as he nibbled on the very tip of the bagel in the silent car. He knew that Scott was playing lacrosse with Isaac, the jerk, and that everyone else…well, would never want to hang out with him alone unless they had to. He rolled his eyes and ripped off a huge bite of the bagel and barely chewed it before he swallowed, a little painfully. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he’d be damned if he was going to be cooped up in the house all day. He started his jeep and turned his head to back out of the driveway when his heart practically stopped and his eyes widened in shock.

“Oh my God! What the hell, dude?! How?!-Why are you in my car?!” He was face-to-face with a certain dark-haired, broody sourwolf, being assaulted with a hard scowl.

“We need to talk.” He growled out. As soon as those words hit Stiles’ ears he knew it. That day was going to suck!

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Stiles led Derek up to his room (probably the first time Derek had ever used his front door) with a pout on his face and he stomped up the stairs like a child. Every fucking time! Every time he wanted a great, feel-good, care-free day, something like this had to come up. Stupid sourwolves with their stupid leather jackets and perfectly gelled hair… He threw himself on his bed, dramatically, and buried his head in his pillow. He heard a click as Derek shut the door behind them and moved into the room. “Stiles.” Derek growled.

“Stiles isn’t here right now, please leave a message. Beep!” Stiles said, his voice muffled by the pillow. He knew the werewolf could understand him though. 

“All right. Hey Stiles, it’s Derek. If you don’t sit up right now and stop acting like a fucking child, I’ll rip your throat out… with my teeth.” Stiles could hear the bite in his voice. He threw his fist into the mattress before he turned over and sat up. “Real original, Derek, you really need to come up with some new material.” Stiles mocked. Another glare from Derek made him throw his hands into the air with a defeated groan. “Fine! What is it?”

“Something’s different.” Derek said. Silence hung in the air and Stiles twitched, waiting for more, but it never came.

“You’re kidding me, right? Can you elaborate?!” 

“I smell something…in the air. It’s something I’ve never smelled before.”

“A smell…” Stiles couldn’t help but become a little frustrated by the broody man’s lack of the ability to use words. Derek huffed in annoyance. “A smell of power, a power I can’t identify.” Stiles snapped to attention after hearing the word ‘power’. Some unidentified source of power definitely wouldn’t bode well for future awesome days…if they ever came. He stood only to walk over and plop down in his desk chair, swiveling around to look at Derek again. “Alright, what do you want from me then?” Stiles asked, truly curious.

“I need you to help me find out what it is.”

“What, like information? I need a little more to go on if you want me to find out what it is.”

“Like what?” Derek furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head like a confused puppy dog.

“Well, do you know where this ‘smell’ is coming from… or who it’s coming from?”

“No…” Derek said quietly, almost mumbling. Stiles let out a quick huff of breath. “Well then the first thing we should do is track where the smell is coming from.” Derek narrowed his eyes. 

“We?” 

“Yes, dude, we. You did ask for my help.”

“No. It could be dangerous and I don’t feel like babysitting a hyperactive man-child.” Derek turned to leave but Stiles sprang from the chair and moved in front of him, blocking his path to the door. “Derek! I wanna help!” he whined. Stiles didn’t even realize what had happened until his back hit the door with a painful thud. Derek pinned him against the door, getting up in his personal space. That seemed vaguely familiar… Stiles was brought back to reality by Derek’s gritty, threatening voice. “I said no.” His hot breath ran over Stiles’ face as he spoke.

“Come on, man! I’m not going to be cooped up in here all day with nothing to do. Let me help.” Derek glared at him. “Please?” he begged, throwing in a cheesy-looking smile. He saw Derek thinking it over and soon his hand dropped from its grip on Stile’s shirt. “Fine.” He said in a grudging tone. Victory! “Great! Come on boy, let’s go find Timmy!” Stiles slipped out the door and was down the stairs before Derek even had a chance to respond. He heard Stiles yell from downstairs. “We’ll take my car!” He heard the door slam shut. Derek rolled his eyes. It was going to be one of those days…

//Oo,..,oO\\\

They had been driving around for about an hour with Derek’s head hanging out the window, sniffing the air. Stiles was getting bored already and the groaning in his stomach didn’t help things either. He never did finish his bagel. “Dude, I’m booored! How long does it take to track a smell? You have wolf-powers for God’s sake!” Derek took his head back in the car and rolled up the window. “You were the one that insisted on coming along!” he responded. An awkward gurgle erupted from Stiles and Derek eyed him. “What? I’m hungry.”

“Didn’t you eat breakfast?” Derek asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft and laced with something Stiles couldn’t quite identify. 

“Not unless you count one bite of a bagel as breakfast.” Stiles quipped. 

“There’s a burger joint just up ahead we can go to.” Stiles’ face turned up with a huge grin. “A burger joint?” he mocked, with a small snicker. Derek just glared at him but Stiles kept smiling anyway. They pulled into the parking lot of the ‘burger joint’ and parked next to a sign sitting on top of an old, rusty barrel. “Burt’s?” Stiles asked, scrunching up his face. He was met with silence as Derek got out and started walking toward the restaurant. Stiles just shrugged and followed him inside, half jogging to keep up. He coughed a little as they entered the small place from the heavy smoke in the air. The place was more of a bar than anything else, complete with a long counter along the far wall with an assortment of liquor behind it and scruffy-looking suspects occupying the stools. Two pool tables graced the right, over near the bathrooms, and Stiles observed the men playing pool, big biker men covered in tattoos and denim. There were a few tables in the left corner and he followed Derek as they seated themselves.

“This place is…nice?” Stiles tried to make small talk, but he wasn’t really sure what to say about the dirt-hole he was sitting in. Derek just gave a little smirk, barely even noticeable, and Stiles almost thought it was just in his head before a bubbly woman appeared at their table. “Hey. Sweetie.” She said to Derek. Stiles’ heart almost stopped beating. What did she think she was doing?! No one could call Derek ‘sweetie’ and not get their throat clawed out! To his complete and utter surprise Derek smiled at her with a big, toothy grin. Smiled! Derek! “Hey, Pamela, how’s it going?” he asked.

“Oh, not too bad. What can I get ya boys?” She asked, taking a pen from between the bun of her dirty blonde hair. The middle-aged woman took a moment to give Stiles a once-over and he blushed as he saw Derek smirk again. “I’ll have the usual. Get my…friend here the same, but well-done.” Derek made piercing eye contact with Stiles at the word ‘friend’ and his storm-grey eyes lingered for a few moments, making Stiles forget about his witty ‘I can order for myself’ comment. Stiles blushed a soft pink and cast his gaze awkwardly to the table, although for the life him he didn’t know why.

“All right, I’ll tell Burt.” She winked at Derek with a smile and walked off toward the kitchens. Stiles’ mouth was open like a fish’s as Derek looked at him with a blank face. “What?” he asked. Stiles’ mouth closed and a mischievous smirk appeared in its place. “Come her often…sweetie?” He asked, playfully, his smirk evolving into a huge grin at the last part. Derek pressed his lips together angrily and glared at him. “Oh, so she can say it but I can’t?” Stiles complained. Derek didn’t say anything and just kept glaring. After a while Stiles gave up, not really feeling threatened by Derek. He rested his elbow on the small, two-person table and looked up at the walls. They were covered in pictures, sports related items, and alcohol logos. 

He was completely entertained with looking at the stuff on the walls, probably fueling his ADD. They even had a bull’s head and a dart board! They sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence before Stiles jumped as he heard a heavy glass hit the table. “Here ya go.” Pamela said, placing a mug of beer in front of Derek who accepted it with a nod. “I got you,” she gestured to Stiles, placing a mug of a dark, bubbly liquid in front of him, “a Coke, hun. Your food’ll be done soon ‘n I’ll bring it to ya.” She glided away with another smile as Stiles watched her disappear through the smoky room. 

He turned his attention back to Derek, his eyes lingering on Stiles’ throat with his mouth open just slightly and his eyes glazed over. “Um…” Stiles said. Derek snapped his eyes up and looked away. Stiles could swear he saw some color in his cheeks but he chose to ignore it. He twiddled his thumbs awkwardly before breaking the silence. “So if you had to guess, what do you think this power is?”

“That’s the whole reason I came to you, I don’t know.” He answered, apparently brave enough to look Stiles in the eye again.

“Humor me.” Derek’s face pinched together slightly as he thought.

“Well, it smells strange, like meadow flowers and death mixed in with the smell of massive power.” It was an odd description, but at least it was something. “Death? That sounds…gross.” Stiles said, scrunching up his nose. Another smirk met Derek’s lips and Stiles couldn’t help but smile in response. “It is gross, that’s why I want to know what it is. Generally things that smell like death are bad.” Stiles couldn’t argue with that logic.

“What do meadow flowers have to do with it?” he asked.

“Everyone has a distinct smell, for instance Scott smells like salt and freshly cut grass. I’m guessing the meadow flowers are the smell of whomever or whatever we’re looking for.” Derek explained. 

“Really? What do I smell like?” Stiles blurted out, not really thinking. Derek’s eyes sunk to the table which, for some reason, annoyed Stiles a little. “Come on I want to know! What’s my scent?” he pushed. Derek slowly looked up at Stiles.

“Chocolate.”

Derek held his gaze and Stiles blushed again but couldn’t look away. Time ticked by and Stiles could feel himself sinking into the vast ocean of beauty and mystery that were Derek’s eyes. Something was in his eyes that Stiles couldn’t identify and he desperately searched them for an answer. His breath slowed to the point where he was barely breathing and his heart sped up, feeling like it was going to burst through his chest. The moment hung for what seemed like an eternity and Stiles couldn’t escape it. He jumped again at another clunk on the table. Two large, steaming plates were placed in front of them. “There ya are.” Pamela said, “If you need anything else just holler.” She practically skipped away back to the kitchen. Thank God she came when she did because that moment was getting way too heavy for his little Stiles heart to handle. He watched as Derek skewered a large piece of meat with his fork, not even bothering to use a knife, and brought it to his mouth, tearing at it with his teeth. 

Stiles just registered what they were eating and rolled his eyes. “Steak? Are you serious? It’s not even eleven o’clock in the morning! I thought we were getting burgers!” He threw his arms up in an outrageous gesture. Derek just eyed him from across the table with blood dripping down his mouth from his apparently incredibly rare steak, still trying to rip off a bite. “I rike sterrrk.” He said, his voice distorted by the meat in his mouth. Stiles just sighed and picked up a knife and sawed into his steak. They ate in silence, and Stiles did everything in his power to avoid Derek’s gaze, not wanting to get pulled in again. Derek finished his food long before Stiles and just sat there staring at him. Stiles hesitantly brought the last piece of his incredibly delicious steak to his mouth, trying not to notice Derek staring at his lips.

“Soooo…” Stiles started to say, “Where are the bathrooms?” Derek pointed past the pool tables and Stiles audibly gulped, seeing the big, burly men that could easily rip him in half were blocking the entrance. “I’ll be right back.” Derek just shrugged, taking the check to pay the bill and walked off toward Pamela. Stiles hesitantly walked toward the bathrooms, coming up on the pool table. Did he really need to pee that bad? The pressure in his groin told him that, yes, he did. The best route around to the bathrooms was past the biggest man there. He was bent over, preparing to make a shot and Stiles was sure he could quickly slip behind him. He crept forward but being the awkward, clumsy person he was, tripped over his own feet and bumped into the biker.

His pool stick hit the white ball at a strange, unexpected angle and knocked into the eight ball. Stiles watched in slow-motion horror as the ball slowly rolled toward the corner pocked and plopped in. He stood there, frozen, as the huge bearded man spun around with fire in his eyes and grabbed his arm. “You little shit! You just cost me three hundred dollars!” the man ground out through gritted teeth in a vicious, out for blood voice. He squeezed Stiles’ arm painfully and he could feel his knees giving out as he screwed his eyes shut. Just as quickly as the pain had come, it vanished, and Stiles cracked open his eyes to see Derek had grabbed the man’s wrist and wrenched his hand away from Stiles’ arm. He unconsciously moved behind Derek, grasped his shirt and buried his face into his back.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Derek snarled.

“Or what, pretty-boy?” The biker questioned, his hands balling into fists. Derek’s eyes narrowed.

“Or I’ll fucking kill you.” His voice was ice and his eyes flashed red. That seemed to surprise the biker but after a moment he swung his fist at Derek anyway. Stiles moved away as Derek caught it mid-swing and squeezed hard. He could hear bones crack under the pressure and he winced at the sound. The biker sunk to his knees and Derek used his other fist to knock the massive man out, easily. Derek turned, not even looking at the utterly shocked Stiles as he grabbed his wrist and guided them toward the door. “See you later, Pamela!” he said, not looking back. “See you later, sweetie!” she answered acting like Derek knocking out customers was completely normal, which it probably was.

Derek finally released his wrist as they got into the jeep but instantly had his hands on Stiles arm, inspecting the already forming bruise. Stiles tried not to blush at the attention and hot hands sliding gently across his pale skin but he failed miserably. Derek pulled away after a while and looked at Stiles with a hard but concerned face. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the werewolf and settled for staring at the steering wheel. “Thanks…you know, for what you did in there…stepping in I mean.” Stiles bumbled out awkwardly. “It wasn’t your fault, that guy was an asshole. He got what was coming to him.” Derek said, his voice dripping with anger toward the biker.

They sat in silence for a minute or two, Derek staring at Stiles and Stiles staring at the wheel. He slowly raised his eyes to look up at Derek. “Derek?...” he said tentatively.

“Yeah?” His voice came out even and controlled.

“…I still have to pee.”

Derek just rolled his eyes and sighed.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Stiles and Derek spent over seven more hours out on the town searching for the mysterious meadow flower power child, or whatever it was. Stiles didn’t mind, though, he liked spending time with Derek a lot more than he thought he would. After searching for a few hours and finding nothing, Stiles had convinced Derek to go to the mall. It took a lot of convincing and begging and pleading for mercy when Derek grabbed his throat in annoyance, but Stiles eventually got his way like he always did.

He could clearly see by the permanent scowl on his face that Derek wasn’t having a good time as he excitedly searched the isles of a gaming store and that only made it all the sweeter. “Stiles, I’m this close to actually killing you.” Derek said, finally having enough. “Oh, why do you always have to be such a sourwolf?” Stiles said, never looking away from a game case he was studying. Derek lifted up his arms. They had about ten fully loaded bags from various stores hanging off of them. “Don’t you think you have enough stuff?!”

“You can never have enough stuff when it comes to the mall, my friend.” Stiles looked over at some girls giggling in the corner. They were smiling stupidly and pointing over at him and Derek while whispering. Derek’s face had a hint of pink in it and Stiles guessed the girls were talking about them. “Stiles, can we please go?!” Stiles groaned in exasperation. “Fine, just one more store and we’ll go, I promise!” Stiles happily led Derek to his favorite store in the whole world ‘Simply Super’. It was an entire store devoted to superhero merchandise! How awesome, right?! He caught Derek acting a little strange in the corner if his eye but disregarded it and excitedly started to browse. Everything was so amazing and he wanted it all. Batman alarm clocks, Thor toolboxes, Wolverine kitchen knife blocks, even Power Puff Girl bed sheets! He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the most amazing thing ever across the way. 

He absentmindedly walked over to it, standing next to the person that was already looking at it. It was a Green Lantern lamp. The base was Green Lantern himself with his arm thrust into the air and the light shade was the green energy pouring out of his ring. It was perfect. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a voice next to him. “Pretty cool, huh?” it said. Stiles looked up at the boy next to him. He met striking blue eyes contrasting heavily with short, thick, black hair done up into a fohawk. He looked about the same age as Stiles and wore a cautious smile. “Yeah it is! You like Green Lantern?” 

The boys smile widened. “Yeah, he’s my favorite. I was gonna get this for my room. I don’t have much stuff, I just moved here. I don’t really need it, though, so… you can take it.” The boy said. Stiles saw a blush come through on his pale cheeks but shrugged it off, holding out his hand to the stranger. “Welcome to Beacon Hills, my name’s Stiles.” He said with a smile. “Jacob.” The boy replied, grasping his hand with a smile and another blush. Stiles let out a small noise of protest as Derek swatted his hand away from Jacob’s and stepped between them, using his hand to move an unwilling Stiles behind his back.

“Dude, what the hell?!” he protested. “Stiles, get away from him.” Derek said his eyes never leaving Jacob. Stiles could hardly believe his ears. He knew Derek could be a jerk but that was just plain rude. “What, no!” Stiles objected again. Derek growled low in his chest. “Stiles! Get…away…now!” he said, clearly trying to control his temper. Jacob looked hurt and confused about what was going on. “Maybe I should just go…” he said, sadly. 

“No! Derek is just being a jerk. Just-Can you excuse me for one second?”

Jacob just slowly nodded and eyed them both suspiciously. Stiles angrily grabbed Derek’s wrist and pulled him off to the side. “Dude, what the hell?!” he whispered loudly. Derek looked at him with a serious face. “It’s him.”

“What?” Stiles asked, genuinely confused.

“The smell? Meadow flowers and death? It’s him!” Stile’s face turned even paler as he realized what Derek was saying. He threw a glance at Jacob and forced a smile as they made eye contact. Stiles pulled Derek a little further away. “Are you sure?” he asked in disbelief that the innocent-looking teen could be anything evil or malicious. “Yeah, I’m positive.”

“What do you want to do?” Stiles asked.

“We need to get away from him for right now and we need to make sure that we do it in a way that won’t raise suspicion.”

“Well how do you suggest we do that, I was in the middle of introducing myself!”

“Just say you have somewhere to be!”

Stiles’ mouth dropped in playful disbelief. “No, man, that’s rude and I don’t want to seem like an asshole!” 

“Well until we know what he is, does it fucking matter?!” Derek huffed out in annoyance.

“Yes! I have an image to uphold as the fun and perky nice guy that I am you know.” Derek pressed his lips together in thought.

“Tell him I’m your boyfriend.” Stiles’ breath hitched.

“Wha- What?...” he asked in shock. 

“Tell him that I’m your… that I’m your boyfriend and I get easily jealous.” Derek said, stumbling around the word ‘boyfriend’. Stiles could not believe that what they were discussing was reality. Did Derek Hale, the master of macho-ness, just tell him to pretend he was his boyfriend? “Stiles!”

“Ok, ok!” They nodded at each other silently acknowledging the plan. Stiles spun around with a smile on his face, ready to face Jacob. His smile faded, however, when he saw that he was gone, along with the awesome Green Lantern lamp. They both frantically looked around the store, not seeing him anywhere and Stiles angrily turned to Derek and smacked him on the stomach, hand meeting rock-hard muscle. “Nice going, Derek! Not only is he gone now but you managed to make me look like an asshole!” Derek just gave him yet another trade mark glare and Stiles sighed.

“Should we follow him?” he asked. Derek looked like he was thinking. “No. He looked about your age, right? And he said he was new. That means he’ll probably be at your High School, right?” 

“I mean it’s possible. Unless he decided to go to Midtown High, but that school is shit, so probably not.” 

“Good. Now listen to me carefully. Do not talk to him by yourself. Tell Scott and let him handle it. The pack wastes enough time protecting you from danger.” Derek said in an almost too uncaring tone. Stiles face sunk into absolute hurt. “A waste of time? I can fucking take care of myself, asshole! How many times have I saved your ass?! Huh? How many?!” Stiles seethed with anger. 

“I-I didn’t mean-” Derek tried to say but Stiles cut him off.  
“No! I don’t want to hear it! You made me mad, dog-boy! Bad dog!” Derek glared at his use of the terms but Stiles didn’t care as he continued. “Now, I’m going to make you walk home and storm off angrily in my jeep but before I do you’re going to carry my stuff out to the car…because it’s heavy and I don’t want to!” Derek opened his mouth to protest but Stiles held up a finger silencing him. “Nope. Come on, I’m not getting any younger.” Stiles said as he moved out of the store. Derek followed with an annoyed face and clenched fists. When he finished loading Stiles’ bags into the car it was Stiles’ turn to give him a glare and he sped off leaving Derek in the parking lot.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Stiles was mad. How could Derek say that about him?! He knew he wasn’t a werewolf, that he was just a human, but he could fucking take care of himself! Right?... He had just finished brushing his teeth and getting ready for the night and he came into his room and sat on his bed.

Maybe he was overreacting; he tended to do a lot of that. He pulled off his shirt and pants, stripping down to his Green Lantern boxers and slipped under the covers on the left side of his bed.

Now that he thought about it, he was overreacting. I mean, Derek was wrong for what he said, but it did have some truth behind it. Maybe he should apologize the next time he saw Derek. A snicker slipped from his lips. ‘Apologize to Derek’, words he never thought he’d say. It didn’t matter now, though. It was late and Stiles was tired. He rubbed the bruise on his arm from where the biker had grabbed him and remembered how Derek had stepped in to rescue him. He wasn’t such a bad guy.

Stiles made up his mind, he would apologize to Derek the next time he saw him. A smile crept onto Stiles’ face and his eyelids started to droop as he fell into sleep thinking about Derek.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

He was such an idiot! Why had he said that to Stiles?! He should have known how much it would have hurt him and seeing the look on his face after he said it had nearly killed him. Derek walked the streets of the neighborhood in the darkness of the night. It was almost one o’clock in the morning and he couldn’t sleep, just like he couldn’t for the past few weeks. Every time he closed his eyes he’d think about a certain hyperactive man-child and he would become restless and irritated.

Derek walked across the lawn of a house and came to the side, looking up and the second story window. He could hear a calm, steady heartbeat and knew that the occupant of the room was asleep. He easily scaled the wall and perched on the segment of roof just outside the window, slipping his claws under the seal to pry it open. A warm familiar smell hit his senses and he could already feel his restlessness ease from him. He quietly crept inside and moved over to the bed, content with just looking down at the beautiful pale fool in the bed, but only for a moment.

He took off his leather jacket and hung it on the back of the desk chair at the end of the bed before stripping off the rest of his clothes until he was in his underwear, hard muscles glowing in the moonlight. Slowly he peeled back the covers and slipped inside, scooting up against the teen until he chest was flush against the slightly smaller boy’s back. Derek draped and arm around his waist and froze when he mumbled something and squirmed against him. After a few moments the teen seemed to drift back into a calm slumber and Derek used his arm to pull the boy closer and bury his nose in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent. 

Chocolate. 

A smile tugged its way onto Derek’s face as he could already feel himself being lulled to sleep in the comfort of the warmth in his arms.

Thank God Stiles was such a heavy sleeper.


	2. Ghosts and Chocolate Snuggles

Derek stood in the living room of the burnt husk of the old Hale house with his arms crossed and a scowl plastered on his face. He had called a pack meeting to discuss what he and Stiles had discovered yesterday. That ‘Jacob’ kid had gotten too close to Stiles and Derek hated himself for letting it happen. He knew he should have smelled the danger, but every time he was around the pale-skinned boy his senses were invaded by everything that Stiles had to offer. He was so distracted by his scent that he didn’t even notice until it was too late. He couldn’t even imagine if something would have happened to Stiles because he had been too caught up by the boy to even protect him from danger. He was such an idiot.

“Is there a reason we’re all waiting for Stilinski?” he heard Erica ask in her typical ‘I think I’m so badass’ tone. Derek growled at her and she rolled her eyes but still submitted. The entire pack had already been briefed about what they knew and they had been waiting for twenty minutes for Stiles to arrive so they could discuss a plan of action. Apparently Erica was getting restless and Derek scanned the room to see if anyone else shared her feelings.

Scott had been the first to show up, aside from Erica, Boyd, and Isaac who had gotten there a few minutes after the meeting was called. He looked like he didn’t mind waiting for Stiles, but then again he was used to it. He and Isaac were just chatting off to the side about God knows what. Lydia and Danny were there, to Derek’s distaste, still not used to the two new humans invading his pack. They had come with a very reluctant and very snarky Jackson who was also chatting away with both of them, none of them seeming to care about the wait either. The only other person who seemed to share Erica’s views was Peter, who had turned to look at his nephew.

“Although it pains me to say it, I agree with Erica. Why are we waiting for him?” he asked, his voice smooth and cold. “Because I said so.” Derek growled through his teeth. Erica and Peter eyed him, probably expecting more of an explanation, but they soon dropped it when they realized he wasn’t going to give them one. They waited for a few more minutes when all of the wolves’ ears twitched at the sound of a car pulling up and they all stopped chatting and looked at the door expectantly. After a moment Stiles came trudging through the door, almost tripping over the threshold as he rushed in. “Hey guys! Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?!”

Derek’s nose was instantly assaulted by the familiar smell of chocolate and he had to force himself to keep up his Alpha image and not just tackle Stiles and cuddle him until the sun sank below the horizon. Instead he chose to stay in his comfort zone. “You’re late.” He said, curtly, adding a glare for good measure. Stiles sauntered over to stand next to Scott, Derek’s eyes following his every move, and they exchanged a nod as a greeting. He felt a little sad that Stiles didn’t come to stand next to _him_ but he tried to push it out of his head. “Yeah, well, I’m not really a morning person.” Derek just huffed and turned to face to group en large.

“Now that Stiles has _finally_ graced us with his presence, we can discuss a plan of action.” Derek started. 

“I still don’t see why we’re here. We don’t even know if this Jacob guy _is_ dangerous. You two barely even met him!” Lydia said, stating the obvious.

“That’s why we need to find out more about him, to see if he is dangerous.” Derek replied. Scott’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. 

“I agree, though.” He said, “Why should we even care?” Derek could feel a swell of rage bubble up inside him at the comment. Why did they think it was just some menial matter? He had explained the smell of power on him, and the smell of death. That was never a good combination.

“Because, you buffoon, the last thing we need is to let a potential enemy catch us off guard.” Peter chimed in. 

“That’s all good, but aren’t you forgetting something?” Jackson asked the group. They all turned and looked at him in question, making him roll his eyes and huff. “He and Stilinski actually had nerdy things in _common_. There’s no way he could be a threat.” The group sighed at Jackson and ignored him, going back to the matter at hand.

“Aside from Jackson being a complete idiot, he’s right about one thing, Stiles was the one to meet him and they actually had something in common. It’s obvious he should just befriend him and then get info that way. Like a man on the inside.” Danny added. Derek’s heart flipped at the thought of putting Stiles in potential danger and he was about to protest but Scott jumped on it before he could say anything. “Yeah, but is that safe? I don’t want Stiles to be in any danger. It’s hard enough to protect him when he’s _not_ intentionally running into danger.” Scott was only half joking and Derek saw Stiles’ face sink a little but he didn’t say anything.

He remembered what he had said to him yesterday and how it had hurt him. He had to dig his claws into the palm of his hand just to prevent himself from clawing Scott’s throat out after his comment. “I can take care of myself.” Stiles said. A snort from Jackson was met by the entire group snickering. “I can!”

“No offense, but you’re the most fragile out of all of us here. If this guy is dangerous, I don’t think you’d stand a chance.” Boyd said. It wasn’t meant to be hurtful, just truthful, but it made Stiles’ face sink again and his eyes dropped to the floor. Derek couldn’t hold back a full roar with his eyes flashing red and teeth extended. The betas in the room cowered in fear, while the humans jumped, a little startled. “If he says he can take care of himself, then he can!” he yelled out into the room. Silence hung in the air while the group exchanged glances. They hadn’t expected Derek to defend Stiles and even the boy himself looked a little confused. Derek just glared at all of them until Danny finally had the courage to speak again, if not a little timidly. “S-so we agree then? Stiles should talk to him?” 

The group didn’t answer but they all nodded. Derek was slightly caught off guard. “Wait… No, that’s not what I-” he began to say, but was cut off by Lydia.

“Great. Well now that we got that out of the way, I have an appointment at the salon.” She tapped Jackson on the arm and the two of them turned and walked out of the room with Danny.

“We should probably go too, we’re gonna play some lacrosse.” Scott said gesturing to Isaac and Boyd. 

“Wait I thought we were going to hang out today!” Stiles said in a desperate tone. Scott looked a little confused. 

“We were?” Stiles nodded. “Oh…I’m sorry, man, but I made plans. I’ll see you on Monday.” They started to walk out of the room followed by Erica who let out and annoyed growl but sped off to keep up with Boyd. Stiles had a completely shocked look on his face as he watched them leave. “And I,” Peter said, already heading out the door, “don’t want to be here either.” Derek couldn’t believe what had just happened and he stood there, stunned, before he realized that he was alone with Stiles and he gulped. Dear God, please help him with his self-control.

He had hoped that the glare he was giving Stiles would make the teen turn and leave like his friends but he actually started to walk towards Derek. Derek’s fingers started to twitch as the smell of chocolate was pouring off of Stiles and into his nose at the close proximity, only standing about three and a half feet from the boy. He gulped again as he spoke. 

“Listen, Derek,” his tone was soft and low and it drove Derek wild just hearing it, “I wanted to apologize…for yesterday.” He had to say he was a little surprised, he hadn’t expected those words from Stiles. He continued, “I was a jerk and I overacted…Although I still know I can handle myself!... I just… I’m sorry.” He finished by looking at the ground and Derek felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t wrap Stiles up in his arms right at that moment, but he couldn’t… Could he? 

“I’m the one who should be apologizing.” He settled for saying, “I shouldn’t have insulted you like that… I’m sorry too.” Stiles hesitantly looked him in the eyes again and when he saw that the werewolf was sincere he smiled, making Derek’s heart skip a beat. He unconsciously took a step toward Stiles making the other boy take a step back, although he didn’t seem to notice what he was doing either. 

“That’s good! I felt like such a jerk, and after you treated me to brunch too.” Stiles said with a goofy laugh. Derek took another step forward and Stiles another step back. Every time the teen spoke, billows of his chocolate scent would float towards Derek, wearing down his control over his wolf who was screaming at him to scoop the teen up and carry him to the bedroom. “Listen Stiles,” Derek forced out, his voice gritty as he struggled to keep from growling with want, “I want you to be careful. I don’t trust that kid.” 

“But we barely even met him, like Lydia said, neither of us really knows what to expect. He could be the nicest guy ever!” Stile replied. More of the chocolate filled the air and Derek stepped forward while Stiles scooted back, continuing their involuntary dance. Derek was losing it and he had to close his eyes and take a steadying breath. That was a mistake, though, as all he smelled was Stiles. He took another step forward and Stiles took one back but this time he hit the wall. He looked a little startled as he realized that he had just been backed into a corner with no escape route by the werewolf. Derek just inched forward, so close now that their chests were almost touching, and he leaned his head into Stiles’ neck before he spoke.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” He said slowly in a low, breathy voice. He could hear the teen’s heart beating in his chest. It was fast and he smirked knowing that he was the one causing Stiles’ blood pressure to rise. He slowly and lightly dragged his nose up Stiles’ neck to the underside of his jaw, breathing in his intoxicating scent. His wolf was going mad, telling him to take Stiles right there and then, against the wall. He tried so hard to ignore it but honestly, he didn’t know if he could. He felt the teen’s hands against his chest, trying to push him away, but he didn’t care. He grabbed Stiles’ arms firmly and held him against the wall as he pushed their bodies together, enjoying the whimper that Stiles made at the contact.

The teen was squirming against him, still trying to push him off, and Derek had to clench his jaw to keep from nibbling down his neck. “Um…D-Derek?...” he heard Stiles say, his voice cracking. He was unrelenting in his efforts to get away and Derek was almost shaking in his attempts to keep himself from getting too turned on. He was failing. He moved his nose to nuzzle behind Stiles’ ear. “Yes?” He breathed out with want. “Can-” he heard Stiles swallow nervously, “can I go now?...” Derek was pulled out of his lust at that comment. He had forgotten that, even with Stiles’ constant attempts of escaping, the other boy might not want the same things Derek did. He could smell the arousal on him, but maybe it wasn’t intentional. His heart dropped as he unwillingly had to face reality again, even with the chocolate still swirling in the air.

He slowly released Stiles’ arms but didn’t move away, keeping their bodies together. He didn’t want to look Stiles in the face as he was afraid at what he might see. “Yes.” He said quietly. Stiles stood there awkwardly expecting him to move, but he didn’t. Instead the teen shimmied to the side and Derek inhaled a quick sharp breath at the feel of Stiles’ body rubbing against his before he was free and the sensation was gone. He could feel the boy stand there for just a moment before hearing his quick steps and the sound of an engine starting and a car zooming away. Derek had taken things too far, hadn’t he?

Shit…

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Stiles sped down the road, halfway in reality and halfway in his head. What the hell had just happened?! Derek had practically just molested him against a wall! The worst part about it was that Stiles had actually enjoyed it a little. What was wrong with him?! He heard a honk as he nearly clipped a passing car and he jumped. Maybe he should take the less busy way home. He veered off from the main roads and took the long way home instead. The traffic was significantly less already.

Stiles had enjoyed it! A little more than he should have…right? It was Derek Hale for God’s sake! The broody sourwolf that loved to cause Stiles physical harm and to drive him crazy! Stiles thought Derek was entering a whole new ball park in ways to make him go nuts. He took a second to giggle at the word ‘nuts’ before he snapped back into his thoughts. He was so confused. If he had enjoyed the contact did that mean?... Oh, God… did he actually like _Derek_?! No! No way! That’s not possible! He knew that he was always a little bi-curious…ok maybe full on gay, but _Derek Hale_?! Again, not possible! He thought about it for a moment. Maybe it was possible.

Derek had protected him from the biker at Burt’s, and he had saved Stiles so many times before. The time when he had saved him from Peter, he had saved him from Isaac, from the Kanima! Stiles couldn’t wrap his head around it though. What if he actually liked Derek?... Something flashed in front of him and he squinted. It was too late to slow down before he saw there was a man in the road. Stiles’ eyes widened as he slammed on his breaks, but he couldn’t avoid the man, even after swerving, and he hit him. Instead of making a thud and rolling against the car, the man exploded into a blue mist that phased through the windshield, through Stiles, and out the back of his car. His car lurched up as he ran over the curb before coming to a shaky halt.

He flew out of his car to see if he was mistaken, if the man hadn’t in fact become blue mist and disappeared and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when he saw no one was in the road. What the hell was that?! “Hey, are you ok?!” he heard someone say from behind him. Stiles turned to see who said it and his face paled as he saw that it was none other than Jacob. He forced himself to answer, his heart speeding up a little. He had to admit, with Derek not trusting him, Stiles was a little afraid of Jacob. But he had to stick to the plan anyway. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s Jacob, right?” Stiles asked choosing to not mention his possible hallucination. He saw the boy grin.

“Yeah! You’re Stiles, right? We met at Simply Super.” He said.

“Yeah. Hey, listen, I’m sorry about my friend yesterday. He’s a little…strange.” Stiles explained, “He doesn’t really trust new people very easily.”

“That’s ok, he didn’t offend me. I had to go because I was late for…something.” Jacob said. Stiles already got the feeling that he was hiding something but he couldn’t show it to Jacob. He chose to smile instead. “So, you said you were new? Where are you going to school?”

“I was going to go to Midtown, but that place looks like it sucks, so I’m starting at Beacon Hills High tomorrow.” Perfect!

“That’s where I go!” Stiles said excitedly. He had intended to _pretend_ to be excited but for some reason he actually was. “You should find me tomorrow. I’ll show you around and introduce you to my friends.”

“I’d like that.” Jacob said with a smile. Stiles couldn’t help a huge grin from appearing on his face. He started to walk back to his jeep after giving Jacob a nod but he turned around again. “Do you need a ride? I can drive you if you want. Where do you live?” Jacob looked horrified at his offer which made Stiles frown.

“No!... Err, umm… That’s ok, I’ll walk.” Stiles thought it was strange and definitely something to mention to Derek but waved at him anyway. He got back in his jeep and backed off the curb before driving away back towards his house, watching Jacob drift away in his rear-view mirror. When he pulled up to his house he immediately stormed upstairs and into his room, taking out his cell phone. He was about to dial Derek’s number when he felt something… a presence. He knew something was behind him and he hoped it was Derek or Scott, hell, he’d even take Erica. But the static that charged the air let Stiles know, almost for sure, that it wasn’t. 

He slowly turned around to see an old man, completely blue and semi-transparent with blue vapor pouring off his body, standing in his room. Stiles’ heart started beating quickly and his breath was shaky. The man looked angry and Stiles was frozen for a moment. They stood there, looking at each other before Stiles slowly tried to dial Derek anyway. A terrifying shriek rang through the room. The man turned his eyebrows down in rage and he bared his teeth. His face started melting, slowly, like molasses, and Stiles jumped as his door slammed behind him and he tripped and fell to the ground as he tried to back away.

“Derek!” He yelled and squeezed his eyes shut while the creature made its way for him, not even realizing what he was saying or who he was calling to. He heard the lights explode and felt a gust of wind pick up in his room. He opened his eyes when he was picked up by his throat to come face-to-face with the creature. It raised him up, not even using its hands, although it felt like someone had him by the throat, and shrieked again. Stiles watched as the wind tore his room apart, items getting thrown around like they weighed nothing at all. Even though it was morning his room was dark like it was night.

He struggled to breath and thrashed around, desperately trying to get away. He felt streaks of burning pain run along his arms, chest, and legs and he realized that wounds were opening like slash marks, ever so slowly. The pain was incredible. His eyes widened as he heard the creature speak in a shrill, raspy voice. It sounded like a demon and Stiles shook with fear. “ _Vos mos mori_!” it said and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut in pain as the grip tightened around his throat and the slashes sank deeper. Then, just as soon as the pain had come, it stopped and Stiles dropped to the floor, the little breath left in his lungs escaping unexpectedly. 

As lay on the floor of the now destroyed room and sunlight once again poured in from the window he gasped for air, blood running from his gashes. He saw his cell phone not far from him and he weakly tried to crawl to it, falling a few times. He dialed the first person he thought could help him, the first person who _would_ help him. The person he _needed_ to help him. It rang only twice before the line picked up. “Hello?” Derek said with hesitance in his voice. Stiles tried to speak but the only thing that came out was a strained breath and some coughs. “Stiles? Stiles, are you ok?!” Derek asked frantically. Stiles tried again, this time mustering up everything he had to form three words. “I…need…help…” he rasped out. Saying just that tired him out and he started gasping for air again. “I’ll be right there, Stiles! I’m coming!” With that Derek hung up the phone and Stiles was left bleeding on the floor in silence, gasping for breath.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Derek had sped his way into down, not giving a damn for the law of the road. He sure as hell hoped Stiles was his house because he didn’t even ask if he was somewhere else. When he made it to his house and saw Stiles lying on the floor bleeding amidst the wreck of his room he felt his world shatter. He would have thought Stiles was dead if he hadn’t heard a heartbeat. “Stiles!” he exclaimed flying toward the teen and gently pulling him into his lap. A scent hit his nose, a scent even more powerful than Stiles’ and they were in Stiles’ room! It smelled of death and power, the same that he smelled from Jacob, although there was a distinct lack of mountain flowers. Sticky blood stained Derek’s hands and his eyes widened as he saw the gashes on Stiles’ body, five lines like claw marks that ran down his arms, legs and chest, cutting through his clothes as well as his skin. There was a strange blue mist emanating from the wounds and Derek didn’t know what it was.

Derek didn’t know what to do and his heart was thudding in his chest so hard it actually hurt. Relief poured into him, even if it was only a little, at hearing the sound of Stiles’ voice. It was strained, but he seemed to manage. “There’s a…first aid kit in… the bathroom…I need to… get bandages.” He said. Derek shook his head. “No! I need to take you to a hospital!” He felt Stiles weakly squeeze his bicep in protest. “No!” he coughed out, “Just get the kit…please.” Derek knew he should take him to a hospital, but he also knew the teen was right. It might be difficult to not only explain how he got the gashes, but also what the energy pouring out of the wounds was.

Instead he gently scooped Stiles up into his arms and lightly laid him on his bed after brushing off some debris. “I’ll be right back.” He told him but Stiles took his hand and squeezed it hard. “NO! I don’t…want to be…alone…” he wheezed. Derek looked worried but scooped him up again anyway to carry him to the bathroom. “I think I…can walk…”

“No.” was all Derek said. He set him down on the toilet and froze when he heard the teen gasp but Stiles waved him off. He looked through the cabinets until he finally found the kit and opened it. He knelt in front of Stiles and started to rip off his shirt and pants. “Hey! Those could have been fixed!” Stiles protested, apparently finding it easier to talk again. “They were ripped up anyway, Stiles, just forget it.” He replied, taking out the bandages and alcohol. He sat there cleaning out Stile’s wounds, stopping to rub his shoulder affectionately when Stiles hissed from the sting, and wrapped them up. The silence wasn’t bad but the tension in the air was heavy.

He guided a wobbly Stiles back to his room after he insisted on walking and helped him sit on the bed, taking a seat beside him. He wrapped an arm around Stiles and was pleased when the teen leant into him, resting his head against his shoulder. “What happened Stiles?” he asked. He felt him tense up and he ran his thumb over his arm. “I was driving home after we…after…” He saw Stiles blush and felt a rush of regret and affection clash inside his heart. Stiles continued “…well, after the pack meeting. I was driving and I saw a man in the road and tried to avoid him but I couldn’t. I hit him but I guess it was just a hallucination. When I got out to check I ran into Jacob.” A low growl erupted from Derek’s chest and he unconscious pulled Stiles tighter against him. “I wanted to call you to tell you about something suspicious he said but when I got home I…I…”

“What?” Derek said, his voice just a soft breath of concern. “There was a man in my room. He looked like a…like a ghost and the air felt charged. I was going to call for help but he pinned me against the wall and this crazy-ass wind was blowing through my room! His face was…” Stiles stopped and Derek could see that he had started to cry, hot tears running down his face and soaking into Derek’s shirt. “It looked terrifying, like it was melting and he had long, pointed teeth. He was choking me and… and was cutting through my skin… He spoke in a voice that sounded demonic! And then just like that he was gone, just suddenly gone!” 

The tears were pouring now and Stiles had begun to shake against him. It must have been a really traumatizing experience for him. Derek was curious, though. “What did he say?” he asked. Stiles looked like he was searching through his thoughts before speaking again. “Vos…Vos something mori…” he thought again. “Vos _mos_ mori. What do you think it means?” 

“I don’t know.” Derek said, taking out his cell phone and let his thumbs click over the keypad, sending a text. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked.

“Texting Lydia. I’ll bet she could translate it.” He said. He sent the text and waited a few minutes, still cradling Stiles in his arms before his phone buzzed. When he read it his heart dropped.

**\--This looks like Latin. It means “You will die.” Why do you need to know that?--**

Derek didn’t even bother replying and just let out a helpless huff. Great! It looks like some malicious spirit thing was out to kill Stiles. “What did it say?” The teen asked, looking up at him. 

“Nothing.” Derek lied, obviously not expecting Stiles to believe him. 

“Derek! What did she say?” Stiles pushed. Derek regrettably handed him his phone and Stiles shot up when he read it, wincing in pain as he irritated his wounds. “Oh my God… Oh my God! What the hell, man?!” he said, starting to freak out. “That thing is going to kill me! It’s going to kill me! How did it even find me?! How did it get in my house?!” Stiles’ heart beat sped up and his breath was becoming erratic. Derek recognized it as a panic attack. “Stiles, calm down!” he tried to get through to him but the boy was hysterical.

“Oh my God! Can I even get away from it?! It’s going to kill me!” Derek reached out and firmly but gently took Stiles face in his hands and forced him to look at him. “Stiles! Calm down!” he said in a hard but caring tone. After he made eye contact with the teen he could hear his heartbeat start to even out as he calmed down. Derek wiped the tears running down his face with his thumb and pulled Stiles into hug, being careful not to hurt him. “I promise I won’t let it kill you. That thing will never kill you as long as I breath!” Derek was aware of how corny that sounded but he didn’t care, and he meant it. He would die before letting that thing take Stiles’ life! Stiles just sobbed into Derek’s shoulder and let his feelings pour out of him. Derek wanted nothing more than to fix everything for Stiles and a part of him was actually enjoying that he was being allowed to comfort Stiles. _His_ Stiles. He made a vow to himself just then, that even if the teen didn’t want him, he would never stop protecting him, even until death.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Derek stayed with Stiles for the rest of the day. He didn’t want to be alone and Derek didn’t mind at all. They, or rather Derek, had cleaned up Stiles’ room until it looked as good as new, even replacing the light bulbs. Stiles just sat there chatting away about everything and nothing and tossing him big, goofy grins when he told him he missed a spot. They had moved downstairs after that to watch TV and Derek had made some dinner. Nothing special, just some grilled cheese which he slightly burned. Stiles ate it happily though.

The only thing that Derek didn’t like was that, after he was feeling a little better, Stiles wouldn’t touch him. He would move away when Derek got close and it was annoying the shit out him! Sitting on the couch watching TV next to him, six inches felt like six miles. He wanted to pull the teen against him and snuggle into his chocolate warmth like he did at night, but he had to respect that the teen might not want that. Even though it was killing him slowly… During the time, Derek had called the pack and relayed the information about what had happened. They had all asked if Stiles was ok, even Jackson, and they all breathed a sigh of relief when they heard he was fine. He told them to start researching what the creature might have been and if they found anything to call him.

It was getting late and Stiles had fallen asleep to old reruns of a Supernatural marathon. Derek sat there and watched him sleep, totally in denial that he had a smile on his face and thought that Stiles looked cute, but he did anyway. After a while he heard a car approaching from down the road and he recognized it to be the Sheriff’s. He gently took Stiles in his arms for yet another time that night, not that he minded, and carried him up stairs into his room. By the time he laid him in bed the Sheriff was already coming up the stairs and Derek sunk back to hide in the shadows. 

The door opened and he saw the Sheriff peek his head in. When he saw Stiles was sleeping he whispered a ‘good night’ and quietly shut the door. Derek waited for almost an hour for him to go to bed and when he finally did let out a quiet sigh and got up. He wasn’t planning on leaving but Stiles must have thought so and he froze when he heard the teen whisper. “Derek?” Derek turned and walked up to him. Stiles propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at him with big, honey-brown eyes. “Please don’t leave. I know it’s not the most manly thing to say but I’m… I’m scared…” He saw Stiles blush even through the darkness in the room and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Ok, I won’t.” he said. He walked over and plopped down in the desk chair and prepared himself for and uncomfortable night. Stiles watched him curiously for a second before whispering again. “What are you doing?” Derek just shrugged. 

“What do you mean? You asked me to stay so I am.”

Stiles just huffed and peeled back the covers, patting the bed next to him. Derek was surprised that he wanted him there but didn’t hesitate as he got up and climbed in with his clothes on and lay on his back. Stiles covered them up with the blanket and then silence hit the room. It wasn’t how he was used to spending the night with Stiles but this time he knew Derek was there so what could he do? After about a minute Derek’s eyes opened when Stiles slid over and snuggled into him, resting his head on his chest. Derek’s heart fluttered and he happily pulled the teen closer, nearly having him rest on top of his body.

“Are we going to talk about what happened today?... After the pack meeting?…” Derek asked. He wasn’t one for talking but for some reason he felt like that was something they should discuss.

“No.” Stiles said sleepily.

“Why?”

Stiles sighed. “We’ll talk about it when it’s _not_ sleepy-time…” Derek dropped it but only for a second.

“I’m sorry I pushed myself on you like that…” he said, having to fight through regret and sorrow to just say those words. He was met with a slight snore. “Stiles?” He could already tell by his heartbeat that he had fallen asleep and he sighed, content to just nuzzle the teen’s neck and inhale the smell of chocolate. 

Stiles was right, it was sleepy-time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!


	3. Zombies

Stiles’ eyes slowly fluttered open and were met with the early morning light. He hated waking up so early for school, but the oppressive school board would never waver on what time school should start so he just gritted his teeth and got over it. He closed his eyes again, trying to snuggle into the warmth behind him before he absolutely had to go to school. He didn’t want- Wait… Warmth? Stiles froze as the events of the day before came rushing into his mind. He hadn’t even noticed the body behind him or the strong arm that was holding him against said body until he felt the tickle of breath against his neck. 

Stiles’ heart started to beat quickly. He remembered that he had invited Derek into his bed last night. He was too scared to sleep alone. He was still scared now that he thought about it and the fact that Derek was still there, holding him, made him fell so much better. But there was still a problem. Derek Hale was snuggling with him… in bed! Not that it was a bad thing but it was all so knew to Stiles and it happened so fast. One day it was heads bashing against steering wheels, then brunch at Burt’s, and now snuggles?! Stiles needed some space, feeling choked and trapped at that moment. He needed time to process what had happened, to process what _was_ happening.

He very slowly leaned forward, away from Derek, and attempted to move his arm away but was having some trouble. The muscular appendage was much heavier than he thought and was hard to move but he eventually managed to make it budge and started to slowly move it off his hip. He was holding his breath but it came flooding out when the arm simply came alive and wrapped itself around Stiles again and firmly pulled him close. He jumped as he heard the voice in his ear, the breath tickling his skin. “Good morning.” Derek said in a sleepy voice. 

Stiles didn’t know what to do. ‘Good morning’s and snuggles?! What happened to hard glares and physical pain? It was so beyond what Stiles knew Derek to be and it kind of scared him. Who was the man in his bed? “Ummm…Good morning?” Stiles answered not really sure about what to say. Derek let out a sleepy sigh and rubbed his legs against Stiles’ in the tangle under the covers. His nose nuzzled its way behind his ear and he could hear Derek take in a breath before speaking. “Your heart is racing. What’s the matter?”

Stiles wasn’t stupid. He knew that the werewolf knew exactly why his heart was racing! He squirmed against Derek and frowned when he made a noise at the movement. He had to admit that it was surprising even him. Yesterday he had wanted exactly what they were doing now. Why then, today, did it bother him so much? “You know why.” Stiles answered, a little more bite in his voice than he intended. He squirmed again and was partly pleased and partly saddened when Derek released him. Stiles scooted away and sat up to face Derek. The man sat up as well, wearing a confused look.

“I…I thought…” he said, searching for words to match his sad, hurt puppy tone. It made Stiles’ heart sink and made him furious at the same time.

“You thought what, Derek? I’m not some pillow you can cuddle!” Stiles had no idea why he said that! Of course he was Derek’s pillow! For the love of God, cuddle away!

“But yesterday you… yesterday we-” Stiles cut him off, his involuntary rage spitting out words he didn’t want. 

“Yesterday you forced yourself one me at the Hale house!” he snapped. Derek’s look of confusion turned to a hurt expression that made Stiles want to shoot himself but then, just as quickly, turned into anger.

“But after that! You had no problem with it when I came over to _help_ you, Stiles!” Stiles knew he was right and his brain was screaming for him to apologize and jump into Derek’s arms but his mouth kept spouting the hurtful words and he couldn’t stop it.

“You took advantage of me yesterday! I was hurt and scared and you just used me!”

“ _You_ were the one who called _me_ , Stiles! _You_ were the one who invited _me_ into your bed!” Their voices were loud and Stiles’ stomach dropped as he heard the bed squeak in his dad’s room and footsteps walking on the floor. When he looked back at Derek he couldn’t say he was surprised when he was up and walking toward his window. Stiles let out a disapproving sound and more words spilled from him. “No, wait!” he pleaded. Derek looked back at him with a confused face laced with anger. He was already halfway out the window and Stiles felt like he might as well be jumping off the edge of the world.

Stiles stared into his storm-grey eyes for what seemed like an eternity before the werewolf sighed. Stiles had hoped he would climb back through the window, back into his bed, so that they could cuddle again, but he didn’t. He just silently slipped through the window and was gone in an instant. Stiles sprang to his feet and ran to the window, peering out into the morning. He couldn’t see Derek anywhere. He jumped when he heard a voice behind him. “Son? What are you doing? Who were talking to?” Stiles didn’t want to answer the questions and he really just wanted to jump on his bed and start crying, but he couldn’t do that in front of his father. So instead, he decided to play dumb.

“What?”

“I heard yelling. Someone else was in your room?” It was more of a statement than a question. Stiles pinched his eyebrows together. 

“Ummm…nooooo? It’s just me dad. Should I be concerned right now?” he said, trying to sound like his sarcastic self. He forced out a laugh and walked past his father, who was giving him very suspicious looks, and went to the bathroom and shut the door. When he was alone he sank to the ground and cradled his head in his arms. Stupid brain! What the hell?! He honestly had no idea where the hostility had come from. He had been a little freaked out, sure, but it’s not like he didn’t want Derek! So why then had he said those things?! Why didn’t he tell him how he really felt, how being in his arms made him feel safe and that he was glad he was there!

He sighed in annoyance and let his head hit the door. He had fucked up big time… Stiles got to his feet again and trudged over to the shower, turning on the water. He stripped out of his clothes and was surprised to find the bandages on his skin. He had completely forgotten about them. He hadn’t forgotten about the gashes and how he got them, but he had forgotten that they were there, just for that moment. When the air was filled with steam from the shower Stiles started to carefully unravel his bandages, preparing to be met with gruesome flesh wounds. But as the bandages slid off his body he was startled to see absolutely nothing at all. No gashes, no scars, not even the bruise from the biker stained his skin. 

He couldn’t believe it! He ran his fingers over his body. Nothing at all, like it was as good as new! He could honestly say he was happy, but the thought of what needed to come after made his heart heavy.

He needed to tell Derek.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Stiles was on auto-pilot the whole way to school. His mind was swimming with thoughts and he wished he could just shut it off! He walked through the hallway like a zombie and came to his locker. He took out a book, not even knowing if it was the one he needed and he didn’t even care. He stood there, staring into his locker, until he heard a voice call his name. When he saw Scott walking over to him he had to hold back a sneer. He loved his friend, even though he drove him nuts sometimes, but he really didn’t want to deal with him right then. Ha!…nuts…

“Stiles!” Scott said again, standing next to him. He looked worried. “Are you ok, man?!” Stiles just nodded and didn’t even move when Scott took his arm and inspected it. “I thought Derek said you had gashes?” He let out a huff.

“Yeah, well I woke up this morning and they were gone.” He said with no emotion in his voice. Scott gave him a weird look. “How is that even possible?” Stiles didn’t know the answer and he just shrugged. He heard his name again, this time seeing Lydia, Danny, and Jackson walking toward him. He rolled his eyes as they did the exact same thing Scott had done and searched his arms. They didn’t seem as surprised as Scott, though, and Stiles looked at them curiously.

“I knew it!” Lydia exclaimed with a smile. She and Danny exchanged knowing glances and Stiles was so curious now he could feel the words bubbling up. “What? What did you know?” he asked, forgetting about his troubles for the time being. Lydia put on the face she gets when she spouts smart talk and gestured at Stiles. 

“I was researching and think I know what attacked you. It was a ghost, but not just any kind.” She rummaged through her book bag before she took out some papers and handed them to Stiles. He looked them over as she continued. 

“Apparently, ‘ghosts’ is a massively generic term. When we say ghost usually we think of the spooky ones that float around but don’t really hurt anyone. I think the one that attacked you was a phantasm.”

“What’s the difference?” Stiles asked.

“A phantasm has the ability to be coherent in our world, interact with objects, and even seek and harm targets. The thing is, though, that since they aren’t powerful enough, the wounds they inflict disappear if they didn’t kill the victim.” Stiles cringed as he remembered how afraid he’d been and how much the gashes had hurt. 

“What happens when it is powerful enough?” he asked. 

“It becomes a specter. A specter can permanently harm someone and has control of elements, like the wind that tore through your room.”

“But his wounds healed, doesn’t that make it a phantasm?” Scott asked. He obviously was as in the dark as Stiles. Lydia just nodded.

“The phantasm must be evolving. I was looking through some old bestiaries and found that ghosts can move up the ladder by gaining certain amounts energy.” She explained.

“How do they get the energy?” he asked.

“In rare cases it happens naturally, like when a spirit haunts a place of power and absorbs the energy. But in most cases…” She paused. 

“What?”

“In most cases they get the energy from ritualistic aid.” Scott still looked lost but Stiles’ brain instantly made the connection.

“Jacob…” he said. He heard Lydia make a mall gasp and the werewolves growl before hearing a familiar voice behind him.

“Are you guys talking about me?” Jacob said playfully. Well his timing was…eerie. Stiles spun around, not trusting the boy enough to have his back turned on him. It took everything in his power to force a smile and pretend that he didn’t want to run away from him, but he managed…barely.

“Jacob! Hey, it’s good to see you!” He slapped the boy on the shoulder and moved to stand next to him, gesturing toward the group. “These are my friends.” He pointed to each member as he spouted their names while they gave little greetings to him. Stiles ended with the tallest, his brain assuming it made perfect sense to go in order of height and not just left to right. “And this is Danny!” Danny actually went out of his way to shake Jacobs hand and Stiles watched as he saw a scarlet blush stain the pale teens face.

Jacob looked up at Danny and their hands lingered for a while. “N-nice to meet you.” Jacob said nervously. Stiles had to clear his throat to snap the boys back to attention. “Sooo, Jacob, what’s your schedule look like?” Jacob smiled and pulled out his schedule, handing it to Stiles. He looked it over and passed it to the others. “I guess the only class we have together is chemistry…” he said a little bit relieved but also annoyed. Befriending him was going to be a lot harder if they couldn’t spend much time together. “Hey, it looks like you have the same schedule as me.” Danny said, sounding a little too excited.

“Really?” Jacob asked. 

“Yeah. I can walk you to class and show you the ropes…If you want.” Stiles saw a blush reappear on Jacobs face. Curious…

“I’d like that.” He said. Danny just smiled and gestured down the hallway. He and Jacob walked off, not even saying goodbye to the group and Stiles gaped. What had just happened? He looked at the others who shared his ‘What the fuck?’ expression. He was about to say something but the bell rang and apparently class was more important as everyone just started to walk to their respective rooms. Stiles pouted and stomped off to his classroom.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

God classes were boring! Stiles was so glad when the bell rang for lunch. Halfway done! He had quickly scooted down the lunch-line and brought his tray over to the group’s regular table and sat down next to everyone with a quick ‘hey’. He noticed someone was missing. “Where’s Danny?” he asked. Erica rolled her eyes and pointed to the lunch-line. He and Jacob were up getting food, smiling and laughing. Stiles was a little shocked at the instant liking Jacob took to Danny… or was it the other way around. Or was it mutual? Stiles gasped and the others looked at him strangely. He remembered that humans and werewolves couldn’t read minds. How useless.

“Jacob’s sure taken a liking to Danny.” He pointed out. The table agreed and continued snacking on their food. Well so much for a conversation starter… He watched as the two made their way over to the table, still chatting, and sat down. “Hey, guys.” Jacob said like he had known them most of his life. Stiles heard Erica scoff and flash him a look. The table was quiet and Jacob looked uncomfortable before Danny broke the silence. “So, Jacob was thinking about joining the lacrosse team. He was wondering if you guys could put in a good word for him.” The lacrosse players exchanged glances and Jacob’s faced fell in sadness.   
Danny glared at the group. How very Derek-like of him. Reluctantly the lacrosse players nodded their heads. Erica was the next one to peak. “Who are you?” she said bluntly to Jacob. Stiles nearly choked on a bite of apple and he shot a disbelieving look at Erica, joined by the rest of the group.

“What?” Jacob looked like he was caught off guard.

“Tell us about yourself. I have no intentions of ‘befriending’ someone I don’t know just because the group does.” Stiles had to hand it to her, she knew how to get her point across. Jacob nervously stabbed at his peaches and said nothing. Stiles new Erica would fuck things up royally if she was allowed to continue and he stepped in when she opened her mouth to say something. Something cold and snarky no doubt. “How about,” Stiles said, “we ask you questions and if you don’t want to answer you can pass. I think it would be good to get to know you a little better too.” He finished with a smile, trying to be friendly.

Jacob looked and Danny, a little unsure, but nodded his head when Danny gave him a ‘what the hell?’ shrug. Lydia immediately stole the first question. “You said you moved here, right? Where’s are you from?”

“I’m from Vacaville.” He said, short and to the point. Boyd chimed in for the next question. “What’s your favorite food?”

“I love sushi. I don’t eat meat but I could never give up seafood. It’s my favorite.” That question seemed to pull a smile out of Jacob. Stiles noted that Danny smiled too.

“Do you have any pets?” Isaac asked.

“No. I used to have a dog but when it died I-” he stopped himself and his smile faded, “Well…it died.” Suspicious. Stiles nibbled on his apple, watching Jacob curiously.

“Do you play sports?” Jackson asked. Stiles was surprised he even cared enough to think of a question.

“I keep myself active and fit but I’ve never been involved in an actual sport, no.”

“Have you ever had someone you love die?” Erica asked. Stiles closed his eyes in disbelief. Damn it, Erica! He tossed her a tight lipped glare but she just shrugged. Jacob looked a little startled at the question and his faced took on an air of anger, ever so slightly. 

“Pass.” He said pointedly. There was an awkward silence for a moment but it passed as Scott asked another question.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Jacob giggled at that.

“No. I’m… I’m actually gay…” Danny perked up at hearing that and it was his turn to ask a question. “Are you single?” he said with a smirk. Jacob blushed furiously.  
“Yes.” Danny spoke again. “Interesting.” Well, Stiles knows how Danny feels about Jacob at least. Everyone had asked their questions and they were looking at him expectantly. Stiles didn’t really know what to ask so he stuck to what he valued most. “What’s your family like?” It was an innocent question, but something in it made Jacob scowl. He curled his fingers into fists and clenched his jaw. Stiles felt a wave of power wash through him, making him nauseous for a moment. He was sure by the reactions the others had that they felt it too. Jacob spoke in almost a growl. “Pass.”

The group looked at each other, no one sure of what to do. Danny didn’t seem to have felt anything, though, because he was giving the pack a confused look. The tension was thick and Stiles jumped when he heard the bell ring. Everyone watched as Jacob rose to his feet and nodded at them. He looked at Danny and he got up as well and walked Jacob out of the cafeteria. One thing was for sure.

That was damned suspicious.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

It had been a long day. Tip-toeing around Jacob had turned out to be quite the chore. Stiles was lucky that he didn’t have to deal with him as much as he thought because Danny had taken a liking to him. He kept following Jacob around like a lost puppy, holding doors open, laughing with him in the hallway, and at one point Stiles had even seen him carrying Jacob’s books! He didn’t like it. Stiles didn’t really fully trust Jacob before but after today he _knew_ he didn’t trust him. That boy was hiding something and he was almost one hundred percent sure that he was behind the phantasm attack.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at just thinking about the phantasm and he looked around quickly to see if anything was there. He was home alone, a fact he didn’t really enjoy. He cocooned himself in a couple of blankets and sat on the couch watching TV. He was too afraid to go upstairs. He knew he was going to have to eventually but he postponed it for as long as possible. He had asked Scott to stay the night over at his house but apparently he had invited Isaac to stay the night already. Fucking traitor!

He and Isaac had been spending a lot of time together and Stiles felt like Scott was pulling away. Actually, he _knew_ that Scott was pulling away. There was nothing he could do about it, though, and the teen just let out a sigh. He sat there, watching TV for a few more hours before he knew it was time; time to do what he had been dreading. It was time to go upstairs. He cautiously unwrapped himself from the blankets, feeling exposed to the outside world, and made his way to the base of the stairs. His heart started to beat faster as he walked up and through the hallway. 

He made quick work of brushing his teeth and getting ready for the night, casting frightful glances over his shoulder at small noises the house made. When he finished he slowly crept toward his door and peered into his room. Everything appeared to be safe and there was no charge in the air. He timidly slipped inside, closing the door behind him. He didn’t even look around as he made a b-line for his bed after stripping to his underwear and practically dove under the covers. He peeked his eyes out over the top and scanned the dark room.   
His heart was beating hard in his chest. That phantasm had appeared behind him out of nowhere before. It could appear at any time that night. He was so scared! He lay in his bed, terrified for a full half an hour, flinching at the sounds of the night, before he couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly snatched his phone from the bedside table and instinctively dialed Derek’s number. He didn’t expect him to answer after what he had said to him earlier that morning and he was _very_ surprised when Derek picked up on the third ring. “What?” he said in a hard tone. Stiles knew he shouldn’t be asking it of him, but he was selfish in that moment.

“Can you-…Will you-…I’m scared.” He said after searching for the right words. There was silence on the phone and he thought maybe he should be more specific. “Can you come over?” He was met with silence again. It made him sad to think that Derek didn’t want to talk to him but he didn’t have time to pout as he almost had a heart attack. He flew out of bed and cowered in a corner as his window opened and a dark figure stepped through. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and screamed. “Derek!” he cried out. Ok, he really needed to stop doing that, it was almost embarrassing. “Relax, it’s me!” he heard Derek’s familiar voice say. 

He opened his eyes to see Derek standing there, pocketing his phone, and he didn’t even hesitate as his sprang up and threw himself at him. He wrapped his arms around his muscled body and squeezed. After a moment he felt Derek’s arms gently wrap around him and immediately felt safe. Stiles blushed a hot red when he realized he was in his underwear but he couldn’t seem to care. They stood like that after minutes passed before Stiles finally found his voice again. “Were you outside my window the whole time?” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s chest. He felt the vibrations rippled through his body as Derek spoke in a low voice.

“I wanted to make sure you were safe.” He said. Stiles squeezed him tighter. “Derek…I’m sorry about what I said this morning. I was just…scared and confused.” He explained. He was going to continue but apparently that was all the explanation Derek needed and he hushed Stiles. “It’s ok, Stiles.” Derek shifted, moving them both to the bed and they slipped under the covers. Stiles snuggled onto Derek’s chest and a comfortable silence filled the room. Derek rubbed his arm lazily and Stiles felt that same rumble in his chest as he spoke again. “Where are your gashes?” He didn’t sound surprised that they were gone and Stiles guessed someone had already told him what had happened but he played along anyway.

“Lydia said that the thing that attacked me was a phantasm. The wounds it inflicts aren’t permanent.” Derek hummed in approval and the silence fell again. Stiles could feel the irresistible erg of sleep taking over his body but he forced himself to stay awake to ask one last question. “Derek?” he was met with another hum. “Did you really mean what you said? When you told me you wouldn’t let that thing kill me as long as you breathed?” Stiles blushed into the silence that hung in the air. He thought he might have scared Derek with his question but was relieved when he heard him speak. 

“Yes.” he said. Stiles smiled and nuzzled into Derek’s chest. He felt so safe lying next to Derek and he let himself fall into sleep next to the broody sourwolf, one last thought passing his mind before he succumbed. 

He wished he had told Derek to strip before they got into bed.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Jacob walked up the walkway of the house, passing by the dead flowers lining the cement. He opened the door and stepped in, met by the screaming already and he sighed. “You’re not my real parent, you can’t control me!” a teenaged girl’s screamed at a middle aged woman in the living room. “I’m your foster parent, your legal guardian, and it is in fact my _job_ to control you!” Jacob rolled his eyes, ignoring the fight. He slipped past the women after dropping his backpack on the ground, making it to the sliding glass door on the other side of the living room but he flinched when her smoke ridden voice yelled his name. “Jacob! Where are you going?” she demanded. He turned only slightly and forced out a semi-civil reply.

“Out.” He said. She huffed but rolled her eyes. “Be back at seven for dinner, I’m not going to save it this time!” He just nodded and strode through the door and slid it shut behind him. He instantly made his way to a large pot holding a long-dead tomato plant and snatched up an old tennis ball hidden inside. He broke out into a run, making his way to the forest on the edge of the property. When he felt safely concealed in the trees he slowed to a stop. “Phasma!” he yelled out into the trees. He waited a moment and smiled when he felt the familiar charge in the air. He turned to see an old man, blue vapor pouring from his semi-transparent body. 

“ _Jacob_.” It said in a hollow almost echoing voice.

“Hi, grandpa!” Jacob said excitedly. He started walking into the forest again and the phantasm followed him. “ _How was your day_?” the spirit said making small talk with the teen.

“It was great. I made some new friends, they’re Stiles’ friends, the boy I told you about, remember?” The phantasm grunted. “ _Yes…Stiles…_ ” he replied. Jacob smiled and started combing the ground with his foot. A wretched scent was wafting around the area and he knew he was close but couldn’t quite remember where he had hidden her. “ _Why do I get the feeling there’s more_?” his grandpa asked. Jacob looked at him, a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“Well, I met this boy. His name’s Danny.” He said. The phantasm chuckled. “ _A boy? My, my but you do work fast don’t you, Jacob?_ ” He just laughed as he bent done and pulled at some fallen branches, looking for the right one. “He’s really great. I think he might like me, but I don’t know for sure.”

“ _Do you like him?_ ” the man asked.

“Yeah I really do. He’s nice to me and I feel like he’s the only one besides Stiles who actually wants to let me into their lives.” He finally found the branch he was looking for and when he removed it, it revealed the rotting corpse of a dog, a golden retriever. Whole chunks of the dog’s flesh were missing, showing bone. He could see maggots squirming around inside her body but it didn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face. “There you are, Sandy!” he said excitedly and sat on the ground in front of the dog.

His grandpa watched him as he crossed his legs and took in a breath, inhaling the smell of death. “Spiri-” he started to say, trying to summon another spirit to aid him but his grandpa cut him off. “ _No!_ ” he exclaimed. “ _Do it without a spirit._ ” Jacob looked at him with a cautious face. “Grandpa, that kind of necromancy is impure! You know what it could lead to!” he argued. The phantasm just shook his head. 

“ _You said once you wanted to be as powerful as I was. If that’s still true you have to learn to do it without the aid of spirits. Depending on them will only cap your potential. I believe in you, you won’t lose control._ ”

Jacob still looked unsure but a nod from his grandfather urged him on. He turned to the dog’s corpse and took a pocket knife out from his pocket. He flipped it open and ran a cut along his left palm without hesitation. He could already feel the power inside him becoming tainted as he let the blood drip onto the dog’s corpse. “ _Control your thoughts. Command yourself to not be corrupted and you won’t!_ ” he heard his grandpa say. He closed his eyes and looked inside himself and willed the darkness snaking itself around his soul away. He felt it recoil in in response and his grandpa spoke again.

“ _Do it now!_ ” Jacob’s eyes snapped open. They were completely white, not any color present anymore and black veins crept into life on his face, dancing as the power flowed from him. “Vita!” he commanded and a filthy black smoke poured from his mouth and swam into the dog’s nose. When the smoke disappeared inside of the dog, its corpse started to shake with wild spasms and after a moment it sprang to its feet. “I did it!” Jacob said excitedly, his features returning to normal. The dog’s tail, or rather what was left of it, wagged at seeing her master. She shook like a wet dog would and maggots flew off of her like water drops. 

Jacob got to his feet and waved the ball around. “Here Sandy!” he said and tossed the ball into the woods. The zombie-dog ran after in happily and brought it back to him. “ _So, have you figured out a way to capture the Alpha yet?_ ” his grandpa asked. Jacob looked at him and sighed.

“Not yet, but I’m sure that Stiles’ friends have a connection. I could sense that some of his friends were werewolves. I think they might be the Alpha’s pack.”

“ _Good. It’s only a matter of time then. When we capture it we’ll have access to all the power we need for the ritual._ ”

Jacob kept tossing the ball for the dog to fetch happily. “Speaking of which, are we doing the power siphon again tonight?” He saw the phantasm shake his head.

“ _No. I have…plans._ ” Jacob just nodded and tossed the ball again, a smile on his face. That was when he was at his happiest. He missed his grandpa so much, but after searching the spirit realm and finding his spirit he made it a point to help him re-enter the corporeal world. All they needed was a good source of power to fuel the jump. His grandpa had found one, one that they could access because they knew for a fact that Beacon Hills had it.

The soul of an Alpha werewolf.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Derek’s eyes snapped open. He had woken up once before that night, to hide when the Sheriff got home and checked up on Stiles, but this time it was different. The air was charged and he smelled the power. The same power he smelled after Stiles was attacked. He stiffened as he saw it, the phantasm, lurking in a corner of the room, staring directly at him. He didn’t make a move, not wanting to make one until it was absolutely necessary so he didn’t startle the chocolate-smelling teen sleeping in his arms. His eyes flashed red in a silent threat and the old man just cocked his head to the side, studying him. Derek didn’t know what it was doing but whatever it was it wasn’t good.

In an instant he watched the man break into a blue mist and disappear. The smell faded from the room, already being replaced by the chocolate coming off of Stiles. Derek still lay in bed, stiff. 

What the hell was that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!


	4. Desire

Stiles sat on the tall chair in Burt’s and watched as Derek attack his steak. He had a happy look in his eyes and was making tiny, gleeful noises, like a dog with a chew-toy. “Dude, use a knife!... Or at least a fork!” Derek stopped and looked up at him with the entire slab of meat dangling from his mouth but soon went back to his attempts at ripping off a bite. Stiles rolled his eyes and took a bite of his hamburger which he had _insisted_ he get that time. 

It had been eleven days since he’d been attacked by the phantasm, he’d been counting, and things had changed a lot for him in the short time. Danny was almost always hanging with Jacob and he rarely saw them without one another. He wondered what they did all the time. Probably made out. Scott had been getting really distant. His friendship with Isaac had sapped all of their quality time away and Stiles was getting annoyed. They were as close as he and Scott used to be and he couldn’t help but wonder how they had started to drift apart in the first place. Maybe Scott was just going through a bromance phase, or maybe it was some sort of werewolf thing, he didn’t know.

What he _did_ know was that Derek had been spending a lot of time with him. He didn’t mind, in fact he enjoyed it, but sometimes it still confused him. He looked up when Derek made a frustrated noise, still not able to tear the meat. He saw his eyes shift to a bright, glowing red and he sank his werewolf fangs into the steak, this time easily ripping off a bite, and he nommed it happily. Stiles couldn’t help but smile. Derek looked so cute when he was just being…Derek. Not the Alpha Derek with the glares and the hurting things, but the mellow and fun Derek that Stiles had gotten to see for the past eleven days. He never thought that he would _ever_ be calling Derek ‘fun’, or ‘cute’ for that matter, but he had to admit that he was.

Stiles was getting used to waking up with him too. He liked watching him sleep and would trace his fingers over his triskelion tattoo when he released him from his protective hold to roll onto his stomach. Derek had _insisted_ on staying over every time Stiles was home alone, which he liked, but he got the feeling that something was wrong, like Derek wasn’t telling him something. Regardless, things were good, and he was happy. He took another bite of his burger and finally noticed that Derek was staring at him. He was already halfway done with his food and had blood all over his face. The savage. “What?” Stiles asked with a smile.

“Why are you so quiet?” Derek asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I don’t know, I’m just thinking.” 

“‘Bout what?”

“You.” Derek swallowed and Stiles awkwardly fumbled over his words trying to make himself not seem like a pathetic teen with a crush. “Ah… and Scott and Isaac! About Danny and Jacob and just- everyone, you know?! ‘N things!…” He was such an idiot.

“You looked sad. Is everything all right?”

“Oh yeah, sure! I just haven’t seen my friends outside of school in over a week!” He said sarcastically and raised his eyebrows. Derek tilted his head to one side and looked at him curiously.

“Are they avoiding you?”

“What? No! At least I don’t think so…” Stiles hadn’t even thought about that. What if they were avoiding him? “I don’t know, man. I think they just have other, better things to be doing rather than hanging with the spaz of the group.”

“I can’t think of _anything_ better.” Derek said with a smirk. Stiles’ cheeks flared red but he grinned despite it. 

“Why, Mr. Hale, you flatter me.” He actually managed to pull a laugh out of Derek and he made an ‘o’ face in shock. Derek didn’t seem to care that he was utterly stunned by his use of real life emotions. “I’ll be right back.” he said, getting up from the table. Stiles watched as he disappeared into the bathrooms behind the pool tables. The bikers playing pool moved away from him as he walked by and Stiles smiled remembering his first time at Burt’s. He jumped as he heard a voice next to him.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen ‘im laugh. What’d you do?” Pamela asked curiously as she refilled their glasses. Stiles just looked at her with a blank face. “What did I do?” he asked.

“Hun, I’ve known that boy for a long time, and he hardly ever laughs, even when he was a kid.” Pamela explained. “What’d you do?” Stiles didn’t know what to say.

“I…I didn’t do anything. Wait, did you say you knew him when he was a kid?” Stiles’ curiosity was dripping off his words and Pamela chortled at him.

“Sure thing, hun, I knew all the Hales. They were our first and best customers back when me ‘n Burt started this place. O’ course that was when both of us were barely out o’ college ‘n had a lot less grey in our hair.” She cackled at her own comment. Stiles wanted to ask her so many questions but she spoke before he could even open his mouth.

“Well, whatever you did, hun, keep it up. It’s good to see ‘im smile.” She winked at him and sashayed away into the kitchen. Stiles stared at the kitchen door as he ate more of his delicious burger. Seriously, he’d have to meet this Burt guy because _damn_ his food was good. His eyes flicked up to Derek as he returned and sat back in his seat. Stiles gave him a disbelieving look.

“Are you kidding me? You were just in the bathroom and didn’t even wash your face?!” He said, looking at the blood smeared over Derek’s face. He just shrugged and Stiles rolled eyes. Before he even thought about what he was doing Stiles took his napkin and reached over and wiped the blood off of Derek’s face. Derek didn’t move away, though, so he figured he wasn’t going to kill him. In fact, he made a low, almost inaudible growl of approval. Stiles thought maybe he was used to the contact from the nights of snuggles.

They chatted as they finished eating their food about nothing at all. They hadn’t talked about the phantasm much, or Jacob for that matter. Jacob didn’t seem all that bad to Stiles but for some reason Derek insisted he was. And, then again, Stiles was almost sure he was connected to the phantasm somehow. It was just strange to think that he could be anything evil, he _was_ a really nice guy once you got to know him.

Derek paid the bill, as usual, and they walked out and got into his Camaro and sped off back towards his house. When they got there Stiles sighed as they went in. He didn’t want to be at home. It was great having Derek there but the werewolf loved his rut and it was boring Stiles. Every day for the past eleven days it had been the same thing: Wake up, eat breakfast or have Derek growl at him, get ready for the day, watch TV, go to Burt’s. That was his life. No…No, he wouldn’t let himself become a boring person! Something had to be different today, even if it was just a small change. 

He searched his desires for something that he really wanted, something that would make him happy…besides cuddles. He spun around to face Derek, who was already sitting on the couch flipping through channels. “Let’s get some ice cream!” Derek turned his head slightly but not all the way to look at him. “What?”

“Sugary, delicious, frozen cow-juice, let’s go get some!” Stiles jumped over the back of the couch and landed upside down next to Derek, looking up at him with a smile.

“I just drove you back home and now you want to go out again?”

“Yes!”

“No. The last thing you need is anything sugary.”

“Come _on_ , don’t be such a sourwolf!” Stiles groaned. Derek took a pillow and playfully smacked him in the face. “Dude, what the hell?!” Stiles saw Derek smirk and he knew it, it was time for the big guns. He flipped right side up again moved in close to Derek. He looked at him, making his eyes big and pouty. No one can resist the puppy eyes. They stared at each other for almost a full minute before Derek caved. 

“Fine!” He growled, throwing his hands up in defeat. Stiles sprang off the couch and made a fist pump into the air. He was jumping around like a little kid as they walked out to his car. He was so excited he could barely sit still. Ice cream!

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Jacob watched Danny typing away on his computer from his perch on Danny’s bed. Danny was sitting on the floor doing homework and Jacob like watching him work. He got so serious when he worked and it made him feel happy that he was allowed to sit in his room with him and just be around him. They didn’t even have to talk, it was just comfortable all the time. Jacob had never experienced that before and it made his heart dance every time he thought about it.

His smile faded, though, as he thought about his heart…his soul. His grandpa had been getting more adamant that he use necromancy without the aid of spirits, but that kind of necromancy was messy and almost always led to corruption. He could feel his soul already being tainted. His grandfather had insisted he was fine and had showed him how to control the taint from latching on to his soul.

Jacob didn’t think it was working, though. It had been manageable when all he was doing was reanimating Sandy or using simple spells, but his grandpa had made him use it once for the power siphoning ritual. Blood magic can almost never be used on _living_ humans without corrupting the user. He had seen people corrupted into darkness and it was terrible. People he’d known all his life, who would never harm anyone, went mad for power and his family had to put them down. Jacob’s family had been spell casters, every one of them, and he was furiously taught to _never_ let that happen to him, and if it happened to any one of them, to put them down too.

It was happening to him now, though. After the last ritual he felt it, the spots staining his soul. He had pushed back the taint but somehow it had stayed, hiding from him and now he could not be rid of it. All he could hope was to keep it from spreading, but that was taking a lot of his energy already and he didn’t know how long he could keep it up. He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Danny’s voice. “So what do you want to do now?” He had shut his computer and was looking up at him with a smirk.

Jacob returned his expression. “I can think of something.” He said. He watched as Danny put his computer off to the side and he jumped off the bed to sit next to him. He leaned his head in and Danny crashed his mouth against his, kissing him with a desire the Jacob wanted, that he craved; the desire to be loved. He felt himself being pushed down and Danny climbed on top of him, holding himself up on his left elbow and cupping Jacob’s face with his right hand. Jacob let out a pathetic moan of approval when Danny ground his hips against him. All right, his tainted soul could wait a few minutes…

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Erica ran through the thick forest, dodging branches and jumping over logs. She had felt something strange, something other than Jacob. It was something she knew all too well. It was the feeling of being hunted. She had first felt someone stalking her a few weeks ago, even before Jacob, but she never told Derek because she wasn’t sure if she had just been imagining things. She _definitely_ wasn’t imagining things now, though. Someone was following her through the forest, just like they’d been following her all that time, and she was going to find out who they were!

She kept running full speed through the forest, the area she had scouted so many times before. She knew the place like she knew she was a sexy goddess, and it was time to put her plan into effect. Erica already saw the drop and smirked as she came up to it. She leaped down off the ledge but instead of continuing to run she ducked back into a small nook. It was partially covered and someone would never know it was there unless they, well, already knew it was there. Once she was sufficiently concealed, she waited. It took almost a full two minutes before she heard them coming.

From the sound of their footsteps there were three of them. They were heavy and ungraceful so she suspected all men. She waited again until the three men came into her view. One of them tripped and stumbled as he dropped down. She would have laughed at him if she hadn’t been so terrified at seeing the crossbow he was holding. Her mind instantly snapped to Allison. It was safe to say that Erica didn’t like arrows very much…or Allison, that bitch. She jumped in surprise as she heard one of them speak. “Where did the bitch go?”

“I don’t know, she’s crafty that one, I’ll give ‘er that.” Another said.

“She’s leaving a trail, should we follow it?” the one that tripped said. 

“Nah, we’ve been at it for hours. Besides, Malcolm just said to tail her for a while. Thinks she’s getting suspicious. Seems a bit paranoid if you ask me.”

“Getting suspicious? Why are we tailing her then?”

“It’s almost time, that’s why. You know how much Malcolm loves the mind games. Psych ‘em out then take ‘em down.” One of them snorted.

“Yeah. Well let’s go then, I’m done with this shit-hole of a forest.”

She watched as the three men walked away and waited until she couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore until she let out a breath of relief. She whipped out her cell phone and dialed Derek’s number. It was time for her to mention it to him like she should have when she had first noticed. It rang a few times and she waited. God, Derek, pick up the fucking phone!

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Derek watched as Stiles licked at his vanilla ice cream and walked with a happy bounce in his step. He had convinced Derek that they should go for a walk because it was such a beautiful day and although he was going to say no, the excited look on Stiles’ face made it worth saying yes. They trudged down a path leading into the forested area of a park. It was a nice walk, one that he had taken before. It was infamous for being dangerous, though, because of the mountain lions that roamed the hills, but Stiles didn’t seem to be afraid. Derek tried to keep him close, though, because he knew that there were more things in the forests of Beacon Hills than just mountain lions.

“Hey, Derek?” Stiles asked. Derek gave him a questioning look as he slurped up some of his melting chocolate ice cream. “How long have you known Pamela?” Derek was surprised. Why did he want to know that? 

“Why do you want to know?” He said, voicing his thoughts.

“Well she said she knew you when you were a kid, that she knew all the Hales.”

“She told you that?” Derek honestly hadn’t expected Pamela to tell Stiles. He trusted her to not mention it but for some reason she did, even though he asked her not to. Why?

“Yeah, she did. Is that true?” Derek didn’t know what to say. He liked Stiles a lot, but even he knew he had a hard time talking about his family. Derek thought it over for a while and Stiles must have gotten impatient. 

“…I’m sorry, Derek, I was just curi-” Derek cut him off.

“No! It’s just… Yeah, she knew my family. Her and my mother were good friends. They loved sharing gossip and Burt and my father liked sharing cooking tips.” Derek cooed at the memory. “Sometimes they would get into huge fights about whose steak was better.” He tried not to, tried with all his might, but he couldn’t help a sad smile from sneaking onto his face at the memory. Stiles was silent for a while before he spoke again.

“Did…do Pamela and Burt know about…about…” Stiles wildly moved his hand up and down, gesturing at Derek.

“That my family was werewolves?” Stiles nodded. Derek thought over his answer again. He trusted Stiles. He didn’t know why he did, but he did. It was something that he tried to deny from the beginning, from when he first met him, but he couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Yeah, they know.” He said. Stiles shot him a smile and Derek had to bite his lip to control himself. He was so beautiful. Every time he saw the teen he was hit hard, like someone ran into him with a train, right in the heart. It was physically painful to look at him and try not to ravage him.

“That’s cool! I thought I was the only human who knew about the Hale werewolves. Well, aside from Allison, but she doesn't really count, being a hunter and all...” Stiles said. His face contorted in confusion when Derek laughed.

“Pamela and Burt aren’t human.” He smiled at Stiles for being so clueless.

“They’re not? Then…what are they?”

“Just because Pamela tells my secrets doesn’t mean I can tell hers. Take it up with them.” Derek said, giving him a smirk. Stiles pouted but apparently got over it because he just shrugged and licked at his ice cream again. Derek clenched his jaw and swallowed hard at seeing his tongue flick over the dessert. Stiles watched him with curiosity, oblivious to the massive struggle going on between Derek and his wolf. God, he wanted the teen so bad. 

Stiles must have thought that Derek was just uncomfortable about the topic because his ‘I’m a social idiot’ personality kicked in. “Hey, Derek?” he asked.

“Wha-” Derek didn’t even finish before Stiles reached up and smeared some of his ice cream on his nose. He blinked a few times in shock. It was cold and Derek was so stunned he almost tripped over his own feet. He was not amused and he let Stiles know by growling at him. He must have gotten the picture because he paled and his face sunk in fear. Derek took a few slow steps forward, his eyes never leaving Stiles as he stepped back, stalking the teen like a wolf would a rabbit.

“D-Derek? I’m sorry. What are you-” Stiles bumbled and when Derek raised his ice cream cone up realization hit Stiles’ face. “No! No, no, no, no!” He started yelling as he turned tail and started to run away. Foolish human, he couldn’t outrun an Alpha werewolf. Derek was on him in a matter of moments. He was impressed that Stiles managed to make it to the edge of the path, trying to make an escape into the forest, but Derek would have caught him regardless. He wrapped his left arm around him, keeping him from running away, and flipped him around. Stiles made a small _oompf_ noise as Derek pinned him against a tree.

He looked a little afraid but mostly he saw happiness in his eyes. He had a big smile despite the carnal look on Derek’s face. “Derek, don’t you dare!” he challenged. Derek smirked and brought the ice cream up and smeared it over Stiles’ cheek. “Oh my God! Stop it! Derek!” Stiles pleaded between giggles and laughs as Derek smeared more of it down his neck. Stiles finally managed to knock the cone out of Derek’s hand and it fell to the ground with a splat, hitting the forest floor. Derek didn’t care though. 

Stiles looked up into his eyes, still fighting off giggles, and Derek clenched his jaw again. His eyes were hypnotizing. The honey-brown orbs searched his own eyes and then flicked down to his nose. Stiles brought his hand up, maneuvering it around Derek’s body and up to his face and wiped the ice cream off with his finger. He let his hand rest against Derek’s chest and they stared at each other again. Derek pressed closer, so close that could feel Stiles heartbeat against his chest. He was still breathing hard from being chased and captured and each breath sent out a puff of intoxicating chocolate.

Derek’s wolf was screaming at him to take what he wanted, to take what he needed, to take _Stiles_! He tried to fight it but the teen made him so weak, made his self-control crumble into a pile of hopeless rubble. Derek leaned in and licked the ice cream off of Stile’s cheek. The teen’s breath hitched and he heard his heart do backflips in his chest. He reveled in the taste of sweet chocolate, not from the ice cream but from the taste of Stiles’ skin underneath. He finished licking up what was on Stiles’ cheek and continued down his neck, making the boy moan a delicious noise.

Derek was sad when all the ice cream was gone and he had to force himself not to keep licking his skin. He ground his hips into Stiles’ and their breath became heavy at the sensation. Derek kept grinding, bringing his head up to Stiles’. Their lips were only an inch away and Derek could feel little chocolate puffs of breath against his lips as Stiles made tiny noises at the feel of Derek moving against him. Derek needed to feel more of a connection. He wanted to feel himself come together with him, one way or another. He leaned in, preparing to take Stiles’ lips in his own, but all he was met with was Stile’s jaw.

The teen had turned his head away. Derek stopped in confusion. He took Stiles’ chin in his hand and turned his face towards him and tried again. Stiles turned his head away again. “What’s wrong?” he asked between heavy, lust-filled breaths. Stiles didn’t answer. He just kept his head turned and stared into the forest. Derek was confused but he couldn’t think as his wolf was biting at his mind. He ground his hips again and when Stiles moaned he latched his lips on his neck, kissing everywhere he could.

The hand against his chest fisted his shirt as he thrust his hips again. Just as soon, though, it was a flat palm pushing against him. “Derek, stop…” he heard Stiles say, so low that he wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he wasn’t a werewolf. Derek had heard but he didn’t stop, he _couldn’t_ stop. Stile’s other hand joined in at his attempts to push Derek off of him. “Derek, stop.” He said again, this time clear and firm. Derek still didn’t listen. Why did he want to stop? It wasn’t fair!

Stiles was getting frantic and started thrashing, or at least trying to, against Derek, trying to get away. The noises he was making weren’t out of pleasure anymore and instead were out of panic. “Derek!” he yelled. It took everything he had, every ounce of willpower he could muster, but he stopped. He didn’t move away, though, just stopped. Stiles continued to struggle for a little while, but when he realized Derek wasn’t going to move away he settled down anyway. “What the hell, Derek?!” Stiles yelled. 

Derek didn’t say anything. He just stared at the ground, not able to look Stiles in the eye just yet. Stiles tried again. “What’s wrong with you?!” Derek felt rage flood over him in an instant. How dare he ask that question! Didn’t he know how much Derek needed him?! How could he not want the same thing? How could he let himself fall asleep in Derek’s arms every night and _not_ want him? 

“What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with _you_?!” he retorted, grabbing Stiles’ shoulders and shaking him slightly. Derek clenched his teeth together. The rage left him and all that was left was confusion and loneliness. He spoke again, through clenched teeth, in a soft but intense growl. “Why are you doing this to me?” He searched Stiles’ eyes and all he saw was confusion.

“I’m not doing anything to you, Derek.” He said.

“That’s the point! Can’t you see how much I need you?” Stiles winced and Derek realized he was squeezing his arms. He let him go and let his hands rest at his side, looking away from Stiles again. It was quiet for what seemed like ages before he heard the breathy response. “You… _need_ me? What does that mean?” His voice sounded like he was actually oblivious.

“I _need_ you, Stiles. I’ve needed you for so long…” He didn’t know what else to say. How could he express the raw emotion he felt for the teen? He felt like such a fool. How could he ever expect Stiles to share his feelings? “I don’t know what it means…All I know is that I want to be with you.” Derek closed his eyes as silence filled the air again. Stiles was so still next to him and he was barely breathing but his heart was beating so fast Derek was afraid he might fall over dead.

“Say something!” Derek demanded, finding Stiles’ eyes again. Stiles’ face was blank and unreadable and Derek couldn’t take it. He needed to get away from him. He turned around and started to walk away but he stopped at Stiles’ voice. “Wait!” Derek felt a flutter of hope deep inside his chest as Stiles came around in front of him. He looked up at Derek and moved in closer. 

“Derek…I’m sorry. It’s just…It’s only been a little over a week for me. It’s all so new and it’s overwhelming. I’m just…not ready yet.”

“A little over a week? You had no feelings before that?” Derek asked. 

“Well I…I did, but I didn’t know what they were. It’s only recently that I’ve had to think about how I feel…How I really feel.”

“What are you saying then?” Derek moved closer again and rested his hands on Stiles’ hips.

“I’m saying…I’m saying I’m not ready yet, to go further. Snuggling is alright, but kissing and…other things…I just can’t yet.”

“You seemed to enjoy it.” Derek raised a good point. Stiles just rolled his eyes.

“That’s not the point, Derek. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to either. Just give me some time.”

“I can’t wait, Stiles. It’s killing me to not be with you.” He squeezed Stiles’ hips, trying to show him he was serious.

“If you ever want to be with me, Derek, you’re going to have to wait.” Derek looked into his eyes. He didn’t know if he could. It would be torture to wait. He knew, though, that Stiles was serious. If he wanted him he was going to have to tough through it until Stiles was ready. Derek slowly nodded and Stiles smiled. He pulled Derek into a hug and Derek held him tight. What kind of magic did Stiles possess that made him want him so badly. Why did he need him? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he was going to have him, no matter how long it took. He was going to be with him. 

He felt Stiles jump in surprise as his phone rang in his pocket. Derek sighed and continued hugging Stiles. It rang two more times before Stiles spoke up. “Are you going to get that?”

“No.” It rang again.

“What if it’s important?” Derek rolled his eyes. He reluctantly let go of Stiles and dug into his pocket, retreating the phone. Erica’s name flashed on the caller ID and he answered it. “I swear to God, Erica, this better be importa-” He paused as Erica frantically jabbered in his ear explaining everything in a quick almost undistinguishable rush. Derek understood, though, or at least the pats that mattered. 

“Hunters?” He asked. Erica confirmed he had heard right and he ground his teeth. “Go to the house, I’ll get the others. Make sure you’re not followed.” He hung up the phone without saying goodbye and looked at Stiles. “What’s going on?” he asked. 

“Hunters. Come on, we need to go, now.”

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Jacob giggled as Danny threw a pickle slice at him. They were making sandwiches for lunch after a hot and heavy make-out session upstairs. “Hey, watch it!” He said playfully. Danny stuck him tongue out at him and finished the sandwiches, giving one to Jacob. Jacob was so happy. He was never allowed to be with anyone like this before when his were…well, before. Fate was funny in that way. Something good always come out of something bad and Danny was his good. He didn’t know if was completely finished with the bad part yet…

“So, what do you like to do for fun, Danny?” Jacob asked. Danny raised an eyebrow. 

“I already told you what I do for fun. I play lacrosse, go shopping, and play video games. You know, stuff like that.” Jacob waved his hand.

“You don’t fool me, that was just first date bullshit. What is it you _really_ like?” Danny blushed and shrugged his shoulders.

“I like computers. Not to sound full of myself, but I’m kind of a genius when it comes to technology.”

“Really? I think it’s fitting. You’re a smart guy, it’s only natural that you do smart things.”

“Smart things?” Danny mocked with a smile. It was Jacob’s turn to blush. Danny just laughed and kissed him. He quickly stole a bite of Jacob’s sandwich and Jacob protested. “Get outta here, you have your own!” They laughed and continued eating.

“So, what do you do for fun? And no first date bullshit.” Jacob froze. For a split second he debated whether he should tell Danny about his necromancy, but the thought left just as soon as it came.

“I like to read comic books and watch TV and movies with superheroes. I like superheroes.” He said.

“Oh yeah? Who’s your favorite superhero?” Jacob laughed at that.

“I like so many, I can’t just choose one! They all have qualities that I like.”

“Well, tell me some of the qualities you like.” Jacob thought about it for a moment or two before answering.

“Well, I like Toph because she works with her disability and even sees things differently because of it. I like Green Lantern because he is the embodiment of bravery, using his willpower to tackle anything. I like Spiderman too. With great power comes great responsibility…although I guess that was more Uncle Ben.” 

“Toph? From Avatar? She’s not a superhero.” Danny said. Jacob looked at him in disbelief.

“Like hell she isn’t! She’s the greatest earth bender in the world!” Danny just shrugged and Jacob rolled his eyes.

“Dude, you’re useless!” They laughed but it was cut short by Danny’s phone ringing. He answered it and his smile faded. “I’ll be right there.” Jacob looked at him curiously.

“What is it?” Danny didn’t answer, just asked him another question.

“Can you get home on your own?” Jacob felt shame swell up inside of him. He hadn’t told Danny where he really lived just made up some bogus story about liking to walk from a certain point in the city. He didn’t want Danny to see where he really lived.

“I guess? I can walk home, yeah.”

“How far is it?”

“I’m not sure…” Danny sighed. He looked really conflicted.

“Alright…come with me.” He said gesturing toward the door and grabbing his keys. 

“Where are we going?”

“To the forest, an old house…I just…it will only take a little while, I swear, but you’re going to have to wait in the car, ok?” Jacob just nodded. He followed Danny out to his car and got in and they sped off to… wherever the hell they were going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!


	5. Counter-tops and Couches

Derek pulled up to the old Hale house in his Camaro, Stiles riding shotgun next to him. He saw the other cars already parked outside the house, apparently most of the pack was already there. They walked inside the burnt-out structure and into the living room. Derek took his place at the back of the room, overlooking the pack, and he was glad when Stiles walked past Scott to stand next to him, so close that Derek wasn’t even sure if it was within the ‘just friends’ social norm. The hurt and questioning look on Scott’s face shouldn’t have made him as happy as it did but he fist-pumped in his head anyway. 

Scott, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Peter were already there. They were just waiting on Lydia, Jackson, and Danny. They stood in the room with Erica and Boyd chatting about school to each other and the others. Derek didn’t miss Scott’s awkward glances at him and Stiles and, as fun as it had been to see his reaction at Stiles choosing him over Scott, it was starting to annoy him. The pack looked to the door as Lydia and Jackson walked in, Jackson looking about as amused as a cat thrown in a pond. Derek waited a moment for Danny to come into the house, but when he didn’t he got a little confused. 

As though Stiles had invaded his mind, he asked the question Derek was about to ask. “Where’s Danny?” Jackson shrugged.

“Like I know, Stilinski. I don’t follow him around demanding his attention like you do with Scott.” Derek didn’t like the way he was talking to Stiles and he couldn’t help the low growl he made, cutting off Stiles’ witty come-back. The growl was simple, but it had a vicious tone. Jackson swallowed hard and his face turned to an apologetic expression. The other betas in the room backed away a little too. Stiles looked up at him with an almost invisible smile, but Derek understood he was grateful. 

The room was filled with an awkward silence, well, awkward for everyone except for Stiles and Derek, who seemed happy to exchange quick glances and cute smiles. Stiles would sway a little and brush his shoulder against Derek’s “unintentionally”, but Derek new it was just a show for the pack. Although, by the looks of confusion, disgust, and even _horror_ , Derek knew they weren’t buying it, but just didn’t say anything. Stiles, however, was pleasantly oblivious. Peter just stared at the two of them with a creepy smirk. They waited for another minute or so before they heard Danny pull up to the house. 

Derek tensed up immediately at smelling the familiar scent and the other wolves in the house must have smelled it too, as they were on guard. He instinctively moved to cover Stiles’ body, trying to protect him from the unknown. The teen just looked as confused as ever, but when Danny walked through the door he understood why. That is, if Derek’s angry scolding hadn’t been a clue. “Danny! What the HELL?! Why did you bring _him_ here?!” Lydia and Stiles looked around the room before exchanging a ‘what the fuck?’ glance at each other. “Who are you talking about, Derek?” Stiles asked, gently placing a hand on Derek’s arm. Derek didn’t turn to face him but he answered, his rage-filled eyes focused on Danny. “He brought Jacob here!”

Derek felt Stiles squeeze his arm in fear and distrust and that just made him want to rip Danny apart even more. Surprisingly, it was Jackson who spoke first. “What the fuck, Danny?! He was the one that attacked Stiles!” Stiles looked utterly dumbstruck at his willingness to defend him but Jackson didn’t seem to acknowledge that he had. 

“No, the _phantasm_ is what attacked Stiles and we don’t know if that had anything to do with Jacob!”

“Like hell it didn’t! It happened right after Stiles crashed his jeep and found Jacob!” Scott spat. Danny looked like he was getting frustrated.

“That doesn’t prove anything. He just happened to be there and wanted to see if Stiles was alright!”

“Oh yeah, he just _happened_ to be there right as Stiles just _happened_ to hit the PHANTASM with his jeep!” Erica added. She just loves picking a fight doesn’t she? The room erupted with angry voices and flailing limbs as the pack argued over the situation. Everyone’s voice was indistinguishable from each other and it just became one loud cluster of noise inside the crisp of a house. Derek didn’t say anything more, though. The only thing he cared about was protecting Stiles and when the teen leaned up and whispered something in his ear all he really wanted was to do what Stiles wanted to make the situation more comfortable for him.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered, his hot breath on Derek’s skin and hint of annoyance in his voice, “make them shut up, please.” Derek didn’t hesitate as he let out a full roar, his eyes flashing red, and the charred wood of the house shook at the intensity of the sound. He brushed his fingers against Stiles’ as he realized that the roar hurt his ears but the teen recovered quickly, turning to face the group. “Will you guys stop it?! God, you’re worse than old women at a bingo tourney!” Stiles yelled. He continued after everyone had settled down. 

“Now, Danny is right! We don’t know that Jacob was involved in the phantasm attack.”

“Of course he was! He-” Scott began to say. Derek let out a growl and cut him off, however, after feeling Stiles pat his arm. He agreed with Scott, but he let Stiles say what he needed to say. 

“Calm your tits! Danny, where is Jacob?” Stiles asked.

“I told him he had to wait in the car…”

“Good. He’s not _in_ the house, guys, so just SHUT UP! We have more important things to deal with!” Everyone looked a little ashamed and they knew Stiles was right. Derek laughed as Stiles gave him a surprised look at the fact that he had sufficiently shut the pack up. He cleared his throat, awkwardly, when the others gaped at him for the show of emotion. “Stiles is right, Erica said that some hunters were following her. If we’re being hunted again, that takes priority over Jacob. Is that clear?” Derek said in his ‘I’m the Alpha and I know best’ voice. The others nodded their heads, quickly. “Erica, tell us what happened.”

“Well, I felt like something was different for a while now. I couldn’t quite place it, though, until now. I was being chased through the forest today by three men. They were talking about how it was almost time for something and they mentioned someone named Malcolm…” Erica trailed off, letting her words fall into the air and waiting for someone else to pick them up. 

“Malcolm, who’s that?” Lydia asked.

“From the way they were talking I’d say it was their leader.”

“Malcolm…” Derek said, escaping for a moment into his head to think about the name. “I don’t know who he is.” He said after finding nothing. 

“Whoever he is, he’s obviously bad news.” Stiles added, squeezing Derek’s arm again.

“Well then,” Peter said, “what do you propose we do?”

“I want everyone to travel in pairs or more. No one is to be alone at any time. We don’t know what’s going to happen and I don’t want this Malcolm asshole or his goons getting the drop on us.” The pack nodded in agreement. Peter got up from his seat on the soot-covered couch and stretched, although Derek suspected it was just for show. “Well, that covers that. I’m a big boy, though, Derek, I can handle myself.” Peter just gave a lazy wave and sauntered out the door. Derek thought about saying something, but, to be honest, it wouldn’t be that bad if the hunters killed him when he was alone. 

He snapped back to the matter at hand when he heard Scott’s voice. “I…I know she’s not everyone’s favorite right now, but I think we should call Allison.” His timid comment was met by a fury unlike no other from Erica. 

“WHAT?! There is NO WAY we’re letting that BITCH anywhere near the pack again!” She shrieked. Boyd nodded his head. “I agree, not after what she did!” Derek was caught off guard by Scott’s comment but he had to admit it was a good idea. When Erica saw that he was thinking and hadn’t shot the idea down in flames she freaked out again. 

“You can NOT seriously be thinking about this. She hurt the pack! What is there to think about?!” Derek was mad, but he had made up his mind while Erica was running her mouth. Allison and the Argents would know a lot more about Malcolm than his pack would or could find out. Or at least he hoped they would. “Erica, enough. It’s a good idea. Scott, I want you to get her help. Try to-”

“WHAT?! NO WAY!!!” Erica was hysterical. Derek almost jumped as he heard Stiles’ voice. It was a strong and commanding tone, very unlike Stiles. It kind of turned Derek on… But, then again, everything about Stiles turned Derek on.

“Erica SHUT UP!” Stiles commanded. As if Stiles saying that wasn’t shocking enough, Derek was even more surprised when Erica obeyed, just as she would if Derek had been the one giving the order. She wrinkled up her nose and let out an annoyed huff as she stomped her foot like a child but didn’t even retort with a smart-ass come-back. As the situation and the conversation died down, so did the meeting. Everyone started to file out and as Danny turned to leave Derek shot him a look that said ‘never fucking again!’ Danny nodded and ducked out of the house.

As Scott and Isaac went to leave, Scott looked back with that same face at Stiles and Derek. Derek glared at him until he left the house and it was just Stiles and him alone. Derek wasted no time in pulling the boy into his arms. “Am I going to have to start calling you Alpha Stiles now?” Derek joked with a smirk on his face. “Don’t look at me, I’m just as surprised as you that they listened to me.” Stiles looked up at him and Derek felt the urge to kiss his perfect lips wash over him like the tide. He remembered the conversation they had in the forest not an hour before, though. 

Stiles wasn’t ready for that yet, and as much as it almost literally killed Derek to obey, he respected Stiles’ wishes and fought the urge. The teen just leaned his head against his chest and Derek rested his chin on top of his head. He supposed that was alright. It was better than nothing. Nothing really _would_ kill him.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Jacob could tell that Danny was nervous as they pulled up to the mysterious house in the forest. He looked out the window at the burnt building and wondered why anyone would go inside. “All right, I’ll just be a few minutes.” Danny said. Jacob could hear the tension in his voice. “Wait in the car and just…wait in the car.” Jacob nodded and Danny’s eyes lingered on him, worriedly, for a moment before he got out and disappeared into the house.

Jacob wasn’t an idiot. He knew what was happening and what that place was. It was a gathering place for the pack to hold meetings like they were doing just then. It was the place the pack felt safe and the place the pack trusted to always be a “home”. Perfect. “Phasma.” Jacob whispered into the stale air of the car. His eyes flashed white for the briefest of moments before returning to their normal blue. The air became charged as the phantasm appeared. 

“ _Jacob_.” His grandpa said. He had manifested in the back seat of Danny’s car and Jacob turned around in his seat to face him. 

“Grandpa, I think this is their den!” He said, excitedly. His grandpa looked pleased. 

“ _Perfect. Set the seals quickly before anyone notices._ ” Jacob nodded. He opened the door and stepped out onto the leafy forest floor. His grandpa phased through the side of the car and caught his arm. Jacob felt electricity skip up his arm at the contact. It wasn’t painful, though, it just felt like and intense shock. “ _Wait! The wolves will hear you! Make yourself silent and control your scent!_ ” Jacob couldn’t believe he had been so stupid and nodded at his grandpa again. 

“Furtim et non odor.” Jacob said, weaving the Latin spell. A spirit appeared in a blue mist and wrapped itself around Jacob before disappearing again. Feeling protected Jacob snuck toward the edge of the house, not making a sound at all even though his feet pounded heavily against the ground. He froze, crouching down behind the side of the building, at hearing a roar from inside the house. “ _Don’t worry, it’s not for you. Continue, quickly!_ ”

Jacob needed to place three seals, one on the door, one on a window, and one on the side of the house. He decided to start with the hardest ones first. He crept toward the door, still not making a sound. He placed his hand on it and spoke another Latin spell. “Meum observabunt prædam.” His eyes flashed white again and another spirit sprang up from nothingness. The ghost traced its hands over the door and he saw the glowing seal appear, activate, and then vanish. The first seal was set. It took him a while to find a window that would work as most of them were utterly destroyed but he found one and set another seal.

Finally, the easy part. He quickly crept around the house to the side and spoke the spell. “Meum observabunt prædam.” Another spirit set the last seal and Jacob was relieved that he had finished. “ _Good, now get back to the car before-_ ” His grandpa stopped mid-sentence.

“What is it?” Jacob asked. His grandpa didn’t say anything, though, he just vanished in a blue mist. “Grandpa? Where did-”

“Well, well, what have we got here?” Jacob jumped and spun around at hearing the eerie voice behind him. He saw a man standing there with a smirk on his face. Something about him seemed off. “What are you doing?” Jacob asked, not even realizing what he was saying.

“What am I doing? I think I should be the one asking _you_ that.” The man said. Jacob knew what he was, a wolf, he could feel the energy on him, but for some reason he wasn’t afraid of him. It was odd because he knew he should be afraid. Being caught by a wolf after snooping around his territory was not good after all…but he wasn’t afraid at all. He felt like the man was no threat, like he was nothing. Strange.

“I…I was just…”

“I suggest you go back to the car before anyone else finds you out here. The rest of the pack won’t be as…understanding as me.”

“You aren’t going to kill me?” That pulled a laugh out of the stranger but it was hollow and empty. This guy was fucking creepy. 

“No, no I’m not going to kill you. I’m not my nephew, you know. I find you completely…intriguing. Jacob, wasn’t it?” Jacob just nodded his head. The pack must have been talking about him if he knew his name.

“I see potential in you, Jacob. I see an ally. We’ll see where the future brings us…for now. Now, scurry on back, the others are done with their meeting.” He didn’t even wait for a response or to see if Jacob was heading back to the car before he turned around and walked away into the forest. Jacob sprinted back to the car and got in. It was perfect timing as he saw Danny open the door and come to the car.

“Are you all right?” Danny asked as he got in and started the engine. Jacob was breathing heavy and his heart was pumping hard, but he tried to play it off. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Hey listen, I’m sorry about this.” Danny said as they pulled out and started down the road going back into town.

“That’s alright. Like you said, it was only a few minutes.” Danny smiled at him and Jacob did his best to return it. He was mad at himself, though, mad at getting caught. Why hadn’t the wolf turned him in… or killed him for that matter? And why did he say he wanted to be allies? Jacob didn’t want to think about that now, though. He just closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. The seals had worked and that at least was a small victory. He had to try to remember to commune with them when they reached their prime to see what happened in that house. 

He was very curious as to what _did_ happen, but he had to be patient. If he was lucky, the seals would uncover something he could use to lure the Alpha into a trap.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Stiles’ eyes fluttered open and the light of the morning sun trickled in. He squeezed his eyes shut again, not fully prepared for the morning yet. Waking up was the worst. He never was a morning person and he hated that he was already up this early on a Saturday…again. It had been two weeks since the pack meeting, two weeks since the prospect of the pack being hunted again had been introduced. So far nothing had happened. Everyone had played by the rules. They travelled in pairs and were always cautious. It seemed to be paying off. In fact, the only trouble the pack had seen in those two weeks came from Allison.

Allison… ‘The bitch was back,’ or so Erica had said. She was still so mad, so angry at the world for her mother’s death, for her messed up family…she was still mad at Derek. She hadn’t actually seen Derek in person since Scott convinced her to help a few days ago and Stiles wasn’t looking forward to when she would. It was bound to stir up some drama. Stiles smiled at the thought of Derek. He was still hanging around Stiles, clinging to him like he was air and he was suffocating. He quite liked the attention.

Stiles leaned back a little, trying to snuggle into Derek’s warmth, but he was met with nothing. That was odd. He had gotten so used to waking up that way that it completely caught him off guard when he was robbed of the experience. He lazily rolled over to look behind him. Derek wasn’t there. Stiles immediately felt fear take hold of him. He was definitely up now that the adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He sat up, hurriedly, and called out for his…for Derek. “Derek? Derek where are you?” No one answered. He pushed the blankets off of him, the air hitting his bare chest, and went to the stairs, calling for him again as he went down. “Derek?!” He was relieved when he heard him answer from the kitchen. “I’m in here, Stiles.”

Stiles shuffled into the kitchen, smelling the scent of toast as he entered, and he let out a pathetic _meep_ noise as he was pulled into a surprise embrace. Derek rested his hands on Stiles’ hips and he looked down at him, chewing a bite of toast. “Well, don’t bother getting dressed on my account.” Derek said sarcastically with a smirk. Stiles blushed a cherry red when he realized he was only in his boxers. Derek didn’t seem to mind, though, so why should he? The werewolf wrinkled his nose at smelling Stiles’ breath and his blush deepened. “Sorry, imma go brush my teeth, be back in a second. 

Stiles shot Derek an ‘I can’t believe you just did that’ look when he slapped him on the ass as he went to walk away. He just gave Stiles an ‘innocent’ look, well, innocent except for a devious smirk, and went back to munching on his toast. Stiles quickly brushed his teeth and pulled on some clean clothes. Showers were so overrated. He bounced down the stairs, happily, and was pleased to see some eggs and toast waiting for him on a plate. “Well, it’s nice to know I have my own personal wolfy chef waiting on hand.” He said with a mouthful of eggs after taking a seat next to Derek.

Derek flashed him a smile, sparkling white teeth flashing as he did. “Well, I try.” Stiles had gotten used to the kind Derek. He showed himself a little more lately and Stiles really felt like he was getting somewhere with Derek. The whole “I need you” situation had been a little overwhelming at first, but Stiles had to admit he was quickly getting over himself. Derek just looked so… _perfect_! In all the time he spent with him, lately, he never once thought about how lucky he was that someone like him would want, no, need someone like himself. He wondered why Derek had randomly admitted it to him too. 

When they had met Derek had hated him. To be honest, Stiles kind of hated him too. So what was it about Stiles that made Derek need him so badly? He decided to ask. Hell, if the werewolf hadn’t killed him already his chances of surviving that question were looking pretty good. “Derek?” Derek just hummed as he read the paper. Who reads the papers anymore? “What made you…” Stiles hesitated. He still wasn’t sure if he should ask or not, but once Derek looked up and gave him his attention he figured he had to follow through. “What made you…pick me?” Derek looked a little stunned. 

“Pick you? What do you mean?” he asked. Something told Stiles he knew exactly what he meant but was just playing dumb.

“I mean…why do you like me?” Stiles half expected Derek to get up and leave, although he should have guessed he wouldn’t, but he didn’t. Instead he looked into Stiles’ eyes with an intense stare.

“I like a lot of things about you, Stiles.” He said with sincerity. Derek never failed to surprise him.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” Yeah? Well that simply wouldn’t do.

“Like what?” Stiles did his best not to sound too eager to know, but he failed miserably. He poked at his eggs nervously and Derek turned to face him, resting his hands on Stiles’ thighs. Stiles hesitated to look at Derek but gave in after only a moment. The man loved his intense stares, didn’t he?

“Well I like the way you smell for one.” Stiles rolled his eyes and Derek flashed another toothy smile. “It’s true. It drives me crazy. You smell like chocolate and it makes me think of the chocolate chip cookies my mom used to bake whenever you’re around.” Derek accentuated his point by leaning in and nuzzling the crook of Stiles’ neck, breathing in a deep breath. Stiles’ pale skin turned pink at the proximity. He loved when Derek was close to him, when he was touching him. It made him feel safe and wanted.

“What else?” Stiles asked. 

“I like how you see the world. How you’re almost never down. I like how you never know when to shut up, even when it drives me nuts.” Ha! Nuts… Derek’s hands were creeping up Stiles’ arms and he shivered at the contact. Derek smirked at him. “I like the way you feel and the way you react when I touch you.” Derek had moved in close to Stiles and he could feel his breath against his skin as the werewolf’s eyes flicked across his face. Stiles didn’t know what happened, honestly. He didn’t really realize he had leaned forward until it was too late, until his lips brushed against Derek’s.

Derek froze, his muscles locking up, and he stopped breathing. Stiles pulled away. The kiss, if you can even call it that, was almost nothing, just a tender graze against each other. It felt like someone threw Stiles in a furnace, though, as his body exploded at the feeling. Derek still sat there, dumbstruck, and Stiles thought maybe he had overstepped. Isn’t that what Derek had wanted though? Why was he just sitting there like an idiot?! Stiles licked his lips and swallowed hard as he noticed Derek’s eyes crept down to his lips. He leaned forward slowly, so very slowly, and gently pressed against Stiles’ mouth. It was another chaste kiss, just the pressure and nothing else. Stiles figured he was waiting to see if he was allowed to continue so he snaked an arm around Derek’s neck and pulled him closer.

Derek got out of his chair and pulled Stiles to stand with him. In that position he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and crushing their bodies together. Stiles couldn’t help a small hybrid of a squeak and a moan let loose from his throat as the kiss deepened. Derek turned his head slightly to the side and started sucking on Stiles’ bottom lip, his teeth nibbling every once in a while. Stiles just stood there with his eyes closed like an idiot. He had never really been kissed before, at least not like this, and he didn’t know what to do. He had hoped that instinct would just kick in, but it really didn’t. Derek bit against his lip particularly hard and Stiles gasped, opening his mouth a slightly. 

Derek used the opportunity to dart his tongue into Stiles’ mouth. He tried to pull back a little, not really sure how he felt about the intrusion, but Derek just followed him back, not letting him break the kiss. They stumbled a little before he felt his back hit the counter and Derek pressed their bodies together again, wrapping his arms back around Stiles. It was strange to feel someone else’s tongue in his mouth and… a little disgusting. He tried not to think about it or the fact that Derek’s stubble was really scratchy. He stood there awkwardly for a few more seconds before Derek broke the kiss. He was breathing heavily when he looked at Stiles. His eyes were glowing red and it would have scared him if he hadn’t been used to it. 

“Why are you just standing there? Did I do something wrong?” Derek asked. His voice was all breath as he panted out the questions. 

“No! It’s just…I’ve never done this before. I’m not really sure what to do.” Stiles couldn’t look him in the eyes and dropped his gaze to the floor in embarrassment. Derek just took his chin in his hand and forced him to look at him. 

“Just do… _something_. We can…” Derek looked like he was struggling with what to say. “We can stop…if you need to.” He looked sad after saying that and Stiles didn’t like that one bit. Stop? Aw, Hale no! He crashed his lips back against Derek’s, this time coming alive and actually participating in the kiss. He was surprised how quickly the kiss turned into deep passion. Finally, instinct was kicking in. Their teeth clicked together as they desperately attacked each other’s mouths. Derek bit his lip again, using the same tactic to thrust his tongue back inside of Stiles’ mouth.

It was still a little gross having Derek’s tongue in his mouth, and a little intimidating, but it was also strangely…hot. Derek started to grind against Stiles and he couldn’t help but make little squeaks and moans at the feeling. The kiss broke for the briefest of moments as Derek picked Stiles up on plopped him on the counter. Stiles spread his legs so Derek could get close again and the kiss continued. He was a little sad that Derek stopped grinding on him and left him painfully hard with no friction, but when his hands slipped under his shirt it didn’t really matter.

His hands were like hot iron on his skin, and he moaned as they slid up his sides. Before he knew it, his shirt had disappeared and Derek was trailing hot, sloppy kissed along his chest. He threw his head back in pleasure, his hands squeezing Derek’s biceps when he licked up to his collar bone and nipped at the skin. Stiles was in complete bliss but the fact that the counter was hard and cold made him a little frustrated. He patted Derek’s arm trying to get his attention. “Couch…” he breathed out. Derek caught his lips again and scooped him up. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waste he carried him to the couch, kissing him wildly. 

Stiles made an _oompf_ as Derek practically through him down rather unceremoniously, but he didn’t mind. Derek’s eyes were a bright red and he let out a savage growl as he climbed on top of him. Stiles let his head fall back against the armrest as Derek began grinding against him again. The way he made Stiles feel should be illegal! Actually…it was…but that’s not the point! Derek’s lips latched onto the tender flesh of his throat and Stiles moaned again. He honestly couldn’t help himself from making the ridiculously _unmanly_ noises. 

He shifted, moving his knees apart and wrapping his legs around Derek’s waste. It was different feeling Derek grind against his ass, but not entirely unwelcome. He gasped when he felt the hard length of Derek grind against him. Derek smirked and kept doing it, harder after that. His hands tugged up the bottom of Derek’s shirt but he couldn’t get it off. “Derek, lose the shirt.” He sat up, stripping off his shirt and throwing it on the ground. Stiles only had a glimpse of his ripped body before he felt it against his own. Derek attacked his lips again. They were starting to hurt a little from all the sucking and biting, but Stiles found that he didn’t care. He jumped in surprised at hearing a phone go off.

It sounded like it was Derek’s. They both silently agreed to ignore it and the phone stopped ringing. More kissing and grinding tugged growls from Derek and Stiles giggled as he felt the rumble tickle his chest. “You’re so beautiful Stiles.” Derek moaned into his ear. He couldn’t believe those work just came off of Derek’s lips, those perfect, kiss-swollen lips that he had been allowed to nibble at and suck on. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He said with a smirk. Derek growled as his phone went off again. 

“Are you going to get that?” Stiles asked. Derek pushed him hard against the couch with a thrust of his hips and Stiles let out a loud moan, far louder than he would have wanted. He was glad no one was home…

“No.”

“What if it’s important?” Derek growled low, this time at Stiles, although he knew it wasn’t malicious.

“We’re a little _busy_ right now, Stiles!” he said, grinding again and squeezing his hips to make his point. And, oh, what a fantastic point it was. Stiles let it go and they went back to it. A few moments later Stiles’ phone rang and Derek huffed. Stiles couldn’t take it. What if it was important?! He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone after swatting Derek’s hand away when he tried to stop him. He rested his hands on Derek’s shoulder and looked at the caller ID. It was Scott. “Stiles, I swear to _God_ if you answer that phone!...” Derek said into his neck. It rang again. Stiles really didn’t want to, but he also really _did_ want to. 

First things first, the pack over his…pleasures. He pressed the answer button and put it to his ear. “Scott, is this _ngggn_!... Is this important? I’m a little busy.” He said, trying not to moan into the phone when Derek thrust his hips again and nipped at his jaw. He did that on purpose! What a naughty sourwolf! 

“Dude, is Derek with you?!” Scott asked. His voice was full of panic. Stiles hesitated but he answered anyway. 

“Yeah. Why?”

“You both need to get down to the vet clinic, now! Isaacs’ hurt bad!” Stiles felt his stomach drop and he froze. “Stiles!” Derek ripped the phone out of his hand. “We’re on our way.” He said and hung up immediately. He was never one for a lot of questions. They flew off the couch, Derek getting his keys and Stiles picking up their shirts. They were out the door and on their way without a word. Stiles just hoped it wasn’t as bad as the fear in Scott’s voice had suggested, but knowing their luck, it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, I'm not some crazy writing machine, in case you haven't already noticed. I've just been posting what I've already had done from FanFiction.net. I have 9 chapters finished already and am working on chapter 10. It's been like fo'evah since I posted because of school and things, but, yeah, I'm trying. If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!


	6. Werepigeons

Derek sped down the road at full speed, not even caring about the speed limit. He occasionally glanced at Stiles to see if he was alright at the speed they were going. He was holding on to the armrest like it would save his life and ground his teeth when Derek ran a few red lights, but other than that he seemed fine. It didn’t take long to get to the clinic and when they arrived they both sprang out of the Camaro and ran inside. Stiles pushed ahead of Derek with a furious passion. Why was Stiles so concerned about Isaac? He had never really cared much about Derek’s pack before. When they got to the back, Boyd, Scott, and Allison were standing around the table with Deaton. Allison glared at him as he entered.

Derek’s face paled when the gasp he heard from Stiles made him look at Isaac. He was lying on the table in his undergarments with massive gashes all over his body. They were deep and red and in one Derek swore he saw bone. The skin around the wounds was shredded and small chunks hung there, barely attached. He could see the flesh meshing together inside the wounds, very slowly, as Isaac tried to heal. He was conscious and was staring up at Stiles who had run to his side. “Oh my God! Isaac!...What the hell happened?!” Stiles asked frantically.

Isaac’s voice sounded surprisingly normal, almost like he wasn’t aware that he looked like he had gone through a massive blender. “It was the hunters! They took Erica!” Derek stiffened and he saw the sad, lost look that Boyd had on his face. They would regret taking a member of his pack, mark his words. 

“Hunters did this to you?!” Stiles asked, scanning over his wounds before gagging and retreating to stand next to Derek. Even through the situation they were in, he didn’t miss Scott’s disproving glare. Isaac shook his head.

“No, something else attacked me. It was _with_ the hunters, though, and it _definitely_ wasn’t human. His skin made a _squishing_ noise as a large part came together and a chunk of dead flesh fell off. Stiles gagged again and buried his face in Derek’s arm and squeezed it hard with a tight grip. Derek guessed he wasn’t very good at handling gruesome situations, which was understandable. He tried to control his feelings of desire as the boy touched him. Isaac looked like he had almost died for God’s sake! He needed to get a hold of himself!

“What do you mean it was with the hunters? How is that possible if it wasn’t human?” Derek asked. 

“Simple. Here.” Deaton handed him a steel feather. It was covered in blood, he guessed Isaac’s, and had strange black symbols carved into it.

“What is this?” he asked.

“A warning and a very, very bad symbol.”

“A warning and a symbol for what?” Stiles asked, feeling brave enough to look at Deaton. He couldn’t help but glance down at Isaac, though, and buried his face back into Derek’s arm after grimacing.

“It’s a warning for war. The symbol of the Tengu.”

“What’s a Tengu?” Scott asked. Derek admitted he didn’t know what it was either.

“The Tengu were creatures that embody the spirits of birds. In Chinese, Japanese, and many other Asian cultures they were described as demons that were harbingers of war and did malicious things to the common folk. They weren’t isolated to Asia, though, and had inhabited places around the entire world once.” Deaton explained. Pops and cracks clicked into the air as Isaac’s fractured bones mended. How the hell did he survive that attack?! He felt Stiles shiver against him and he wrapped his arm around him and rubbed his back, soothingly. Stiles pressed his face into his chest and came to stand closer. Scott vibrated with rage at seeing it but still didn’t say anything.

“Once?” Allison asked, eyeing Derek and Stiles with a hint of disgust.

“Yes, they were thought to be extinct years ago. Apparently, they aren’t…”

“What does any of that have to do with why they were working with the hunters?” Derek asked, trying to steer the conversation back. 

“Tengu are war driven creatures, natural hunters. Most enjoy hunting, and for many years were even bred and brought up for it. Years ago, it was common for Tengu to hunt other supernatural creatures alongside human hunters.”

“Hunters trained and bred them to hunt with them?” Scott asked. Deaton threw his head back with a full-bellied laugh.

“No, Scott, Tengu are very intelligent. They are a form of were-creature just like the werewolf. They are just as human as you are and yet…not. Chances are they’re even leading the hunters themselves.” Scott blushed when Deaton laughed at him. Some things in life were too good _not_ to smirk at.

“You mean to tell me that a fucking werepigeon did this to Isaac?!” Stiles asked, his voice muffled by Derek’s chest, but they all heard him. Deaton patted Stiles’ arm after tossing a blanket over Isaac. He seemed relieved but Derek was sad at the loss of contact. He’d never let it show, though.

“I thought Malcolm was the one leading the hunters.” Derek stated. “Allison, have you found anything on him yet?” Allison just glared at him and didn’t answer. A few awkward moments passed before Scott cleared his throat.

“Allison?” he asked, expectantly. She gritted her teeth and grudgingly answered Derek’s question. 

“No. My dad has been making calls and researching, but no one knows who he is.” She admitted. Well a whole lot of good she was. 

“Not anything? Isn’t there, like, a hunter Facebook page or _something_?” Stiles asked with an exasperated huff. Allison laughed.

“If there was it would be a lot easier, but there isn’t, so you just have to be patient.” Although he was covered with the blanket, more pops and squishes could be heard coming off of Isaac. Derek heard Stiles swallow and rub his eyes, trying not to think about it.

“We need to go after them and get Erica back!” Scott exclaimed. Stiles nodded his head and looked at Derek. 

“And we need to find whatever attacked Isaac and _kill it_!” Stiles said, making stabbing motions with his hands.

“Hold on, now. Tengu aren’t easy creatures to fight. You have to understand there is more than likely a group of them.” Deaton warned.

“Well you said you thought they were extinct, maybe there is only one. Like the last of its kind.” Allison said. Deaton shook his head.

“No, they wouldn’t have left the feather if there was only one. They are making a challenge, coaxing us into battle. They wouldn’t do that unless they had a war party ready to attack.”

“What should we expect then?” Derek asked.

“The Tengu will go by their bird names. For instance, a Tengu embodying a pigeon,” he glanced at Stiles with an amused look, “would simply be called Pigeon. The abilities of each Tengu will be reflected by its bird. You can use that to your advantage as it will not only reveal their strengths, but also their weaknesses.”

“We still need to know what they are, though.” Deaton nodded. They all jumped as they heard Boyd’s stern voice.

“None of this matters. WE NEED TO GET ERICA BACK!” he screamed. Derek nodded, quickly, and turned to Scott. 

“He’s right. We need to go _now_.” Scott nodded to Allison and after a moment of glaring at Derek, she moved with him, Scott, and Boyd toward the door. Stiles turned and followed but he let out an _oompf_ when Derek stopped him with his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. 

“I’m coming with.” Stiles answered, resting a hand on Derek’s forearm. Derek dropped his hand from Stiles’ chest and took a step into his personal space, placing a hand on his hip. 

“No, you’re not.” He said with a firm tone. Stiles looked at him with a shocked face. 

“Yes I am, Derek, I wanna help!”

“No, you’re not, Stiles!” The hand on his hip tightened and Stiles let out a small noise, although whether it was in pain or surprise, Derek didn’t know. He turned around to Boyd and Scott.

“Go, now!” They both turned and left, Allison following behind. Derek guided Stiles by his hip out of earshot of Deaton, although he knew Isaac could still hear. “Promise me, Stiles. Promise me that you’ll stay here.” He said. His voice was low and serious but also had something else in it. It almost sounded like…pain.

“No, Derek, I can help. Just let me!”

“Stiles, damn it, no! I…” he paused for a moment before he spoke again, his voice softer and quieter, “I can’t risk you.” He looked into Stiles’ eyes, silently begging him to do as he was told for once. He didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to him. Just the thought of it made him physically sick. “Promise me…” Stiles searched his eyes, although Derek didn’t know what for. The teen wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was sloppy and quick but altogether passionate. When he pulled away he just as quickly captured Derek in a tight, desperate hug and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder.

“I promise.” He said, just a whisper, a breath against Derek’s neck. He wanted to stay there, stay there and hold Stiles like that forever, but he couldn’t. The Tengu had taken Erica and he needed to get his Beta back. He lingered for just a few more moments, enjoying the smell of chocolate before he pulled away and strode for the door. He turned around right before he exited and looked at the teen, begging him again to stay, but just as quickly, he was gone.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Jacob sat in his shared room, enjoying the fact that his foster-siblings weren’t around to bother him. He had spent most of the day trying to tip-toe around fights and screaming children and he reveled in the peace and quiet. It was the perfect time now to activate the seals, with the sun setting along the horizon. They had been collecting information for nearly two weeks and he could feel that they were ready to be activated, to spill the secrets of the mysterious den house.

He blocked the door with a desk chair as it didn’t have a lock. He was alone in the house, everyone else went out for dinner, but he still didn’t trust that someone wouldn’t walk through the door. As soon as he was sure it was secure he quickly summoned his grandfather. The phantasm didn’t even bother with a greeting, a habit that he had just picked up. Jacob couldn’t say that he minded, it was just that he missed it a little. It didn’t really matter in the end, though. He sat in the center of the room inside a carefully drawn seal drawn in chalk on the wooden floor. It was one of the only times he was fine with there not being a carpet in his room.

Keeping with the theme of silence, his grandpa just nodded to him as a way of saying ‘go ahead’ and Jacob did. He hated himself for doing it, hated that it felt so natural, that it was so easy. He didn’t even think as he activated the link with necromancy without the aid of a spirit. He felt the fingers of corruption around his soul again, squeezing and snaking around him like a python. He tried to push them back, although this time it was much harder. He managed, but only just. The corruption was still there, though, like it always was, just sitting like a stain on his being.

The information from the seals flooded his mind like the rush of water after a dam broke. He had trouble sorting through the rush, as it all came to him so quickly. He saw the house’s construction, from a time period he couldn’t place, but he knew it was old…very old. The family that moved into it was large and he could feel them, the werewolves. He saw the years flash by, quickly, and felt the emotions of all those that stepped foot into the house. It was so incredible, the rush, that it threatened to tear him apart. He wasn’t used to seeing all the emotions, to seeing all the memories at once. 

He wrenched his face up in pain and cradled himself on the floor as more kept coming. The feeling as loved ones grew up and died in mere moments, their whole lives whizzing by in seconds, was terrible. He knew them completely and shared the grief when they died. He could feel what the inhabitants of the house felt, every one. The happiness of family gatherings, the frustration of feuding siblings, the sadness of death… And it was a lot of death. The years ran by and he recognized the time period he was hurdling toward. 

He saw the pack-family in the house, not all as some were gone, two of the teens. But most were there. The rush of information slowed significantly as he came to that part. He guessed he was nearing the end of the history. Jacob saw them, laughing and playing in the house with smiles on their faces. He couldn’t help a smile from appearing on his face at the feeling, but that didn’t last long. It was all so sudden and he didn’t know how it happened. The information being fed to him was skipping, almost like a movie would if its disc was scratched. It had flipped completely from happiness and love to fear and dread. 

He could smell the scent of gasoline and smoke in the air, he could feel the panic. The house was alight with massive pillars of fire. Another skip jumped him ahead and the house was engulfed in flame. The pack was trapped and the fear and hopelessness he was feeling was so real he wasn’t at all surprised when the tears started streaming down his face. He _felt_ it! He felt when the fire nipped at their skin, when it caught them and latched itself to them. He writhed in pain and convulsed as he felt himself being burned alive. He screamed as he felt the flame burn him down into nothing. Another skip took the pain away instantly, well, the physical pain at least. He had felt them all die and now the sadness and pain that he felt coming from the two searching the remains of the house was so tangible and so sour that he couldn’t help the wails from escaping him as he shared their grief.

Another skip brought him into silence…nothingness. The burnt-out, husk of a house sat in the forest, completely abandoned. Time passed, although how much time wasn’t certain. And the stillness was so…cold. It felt like he had actually died with the family…with the house. He could barely breathe as yet another skip dragged him forward again. He saw people, people that he recognized, and some that he didn’t. He saw Derek and Laura, Allison and someone he didn’t know. He saw Scott and Stiles, Peter and Jackson, Lydia, Danny, the three betas. They all came with their own stories, their own reasons for being in the dead house. He saw torture, unwanted family “talks”, threats, and attacks from hunters…

He finally reached the part that he had wanted, the pack meeting that had occurred two weeks ago. The information he gleaned from it was interesting, the introduction to Derek’s pack being hunted again, but something else caught his attention. It was something that had happened before that. It was right after another pack meeting. The others had left and Derek and Stiles stood alone in the house. Stiles was apologizing for something which didn’t really matter. What did matter was when Derek pinned Stiles up against the wall. The feelings pouring from him were delicious. 

It was a warm feeling, bubbly and light, but also heavy and hot. He felt the lust that was coming off both of them, but there was something else there, something which he couldn’t place. It was sweet and hopeful, scared and unsure. It made him go crazy and filled him with sanity all at the same time. It pulled in apart in all different directions and put him back together again with ease. He could guess what that feeling was, although he had never truly felt it himself, but he almost couldn’t believe it. Too soon, the link weakened and faded as the seals had divested all the information they had gathered to him. The voice of his grandpa forced him to open his eyes. They stung from the salty tears that had run from them and it was uncomfortable to look up at the phantasm.

“ _What did you see? Was there anything useful_?” his grandpa asked. Jacob slowly nodded his head, still unable to unfurl himself from the perfect defensive ball he had rolled into. “ _What? What did you find_?” He was silent for almost a full minute before he spoke.

“A way to capture the Alpha.”

//Oo,..,oO\\\

It was dark in the forest. Derek and the pack had spent all day searching for Erica and he was afraid that by the time they found her it would be too late. Boyd was frantic. He had run off into the forest looking for her after they didn’t find anything in the city. It was strange. Her scent was nowhere in the air, almost like it had been intentionally stripped it. It made finding her very difficult but Boyd had insisted that she was in the forest. Derek would have protested but he knew better. Erica and Boyd shared something, a bond that his kind could make. It was a mate bond, one of the strongest connections a werewolf could make with another being. He didn’t bother asking how they had forged it but he knew better than to question it.

The only real question was why it took so long for Boyd to pick up on the bond. Something magical was definitely in play there, it had to be. The shifts and crunches of the leaves under his heavy, running feet were the only sounds that could be heard in the stillness of the night, that and the breathes that came with running. He tried to keep up with Boyd but it was hard. Scott stayed back with Allison, running at the human’s speed. Derek really didn’t know why she was going with them. Erica _hated_ Allison after the arrow incident and probably wouldn’t react well to her being in her rescue party.

They ran for almost ten minutes non-stop before Derek halted, almost running into Boyd. He saw Erica tied to a tree with a gag in her mouth and she was struggling against her ropes. They must have been tied expertly if she couldn’t break free. He extended his claws as he saw two figures standing next to her. One was a man. He was tall and dressed in very plain clothes. He wore a grey button-down shirt and sharply pressed khakis and brown shoes. He looked like a blue-collar businessman. He was older, not as old as Gerard but older than Peter. The grey in his hair overtook the light brown and his time-worn face was cut into a cold, hard, expressionless guise. 

The woman that stood next to him was different. She wore a very tight full leather suit that almost resembled something that Catwoman would wear. Derek let his heart flutter as he thought about Stiles from the reference but he quickly pulled himself back into the seriousness of the situation. She was young, maybe a little older than Derek, but not much. Her fair white skin reflected the glow of the moonlight and her long, black hair was pulled back into a pony-tail. She had dual guns drawn and at the ready as they approached and Derek could smell the wolfsbane. He heard Boyd growl at them and moved quickly to stand in front of him before he did something stupid.

Allison and Scott came up behind them and stopped just as they had. The man was the first to speak. “Derek Hale I assume.” His voice was rough and he had a southern accent. It wasn’t suave like Derek imagined a southern accent to be. Instead it was gritty, almost like a tough, bad-ass cowboy. 

“Yes. Who are you?” He answered cautiously. He had expected the man to not answer the question but to his surprise, he did.

“My name is Great Horn and this,” he motioned to the woman, “is Heather Malcolm.” Wait…Malcolm? Malcolm was a woman?! The glances that the others exchanged showed that they were just as surprised. The woman nodded at them with a large, knowing smile on her face.

“Why did you take a member of my pack?” Derek asked, getting straight to the point. The laugh that Great Horn gave was hollow and unfeeling. 

“Why do you think, boy? I know what you’re thinking, but if I had wanted to kill her, she would be dead already.” Boyd growled, loudly, and lunged forward. He stopped in his tracks when Malcolm pointed her guns at him. Erica was screaming against the gag, probably trying to yell at Boyd for pushing matters into the red zone… or, knowing Erica, encouraging it. It was incredibly surprising when Great Horn reached a hand out and Derek and the others watched as it morphed into a feathered talon. It still resembled a hand but the long hooked talons were definitely not human, as well as the brown feathers that sprouted from nothing and climbed up his arm. The swipe was quick and no one even had time to react before the action even registered with them. 

The ropes that bound Erica fell to the ground along with her. She wasted no time in ripping off the gag and running into Boyd’s arms. They both retreated to stand behind Derek as quickly as possible. Even though she looked terrified Erica still found it necessary to growl at Allison. The hunter just ignored it. It was safe to say that Derek was thoroughly confused.

“Why are you letting her go?” he asked. The hunters and the Tengu had attacked Isaac, nearly _killing_ him to get to Erica, and now they were just going to release her? Why?

“She’s already served her purpose.” Malcolm said.

“What purpose?” Scott asked. Derek could feel that he was curious but also terrified. 

“The purpose of getting the pack here.” Great Horn answered. Derek’s eyes glowed red at hearing the statement. 

“Is this a trap?” he growled out through long, pointed teeth. Another hollow laugh from Great Horn made his skin crawl.

“Yes, but not for you.” Not for them? What did that mean? It was curious how it happened, like the universe had planned it out perfectly. As soon as the Tengu said those words, he felt it. It was the feeling of fear and danger. He was flustered at first, not really knowing where it had come from, but he paled as he realized what it was.

“Stiles…” he breathed out. The pack growled around him. Malcolm smirked at them and the two of them had the audacity to turn their backs on the pack and start to walk away. Derek didn’t care, though. All he could feel was the overwhelming urge to go to Stiles. He needed him, needed his help. Derek just _knew_!

“We’re just going to let them walk away?!” Allison asked, drawing her bow. Great Horn stopped in his tracks. His head turned…and kept turning. He didn’t move to face them but his head was turned almost completely around. It was unnatural and a little terrifying. 

“My dear, there’s really nothing you could do that could stop us from leaving. I suggest you try to help your friend. If I know Eagle, he’s already done with his work by now.” That was it. Derek didn’t even think, he just let his legs carry him away, towards Stiles. He could feel the way to go as he cut through the night air, not looking back or even bothering to see if the rest of the pack was following. He didn’t even care that Great Horn and Malcolm had just walked away. The only thing he cared about was finding Stiles. He was in danger and time was running out.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Stiles sat on the step in front of the door to his house. He had left Deaton’s clinic a while ago after Isaacs miraculous recovery. The boy had actually managed to get up and walk around, although he stumbled around almost like he was shit-faced drunk. It had been boring waiting there for Derek. He was worried; worried that Derek was in danger. He was seeking out the werepigeons and crazy bow-wielding hunters after all. He had promised Derek that he wouldn’t go looking for Erica, and even though it was hard, even though he was twitching to do _something_ , he didn’t. He wanted Derek to trust him and he knew that as long as Derek thought he was safe it would help him stay calm and rational and hopefully not do anything brash or stupid.

It was cold outside but he wouldn’t go in. His dad was still at work and Stiles hadn’t been inside the house alone since the phantasm attack. Although it was almost shameful to admit, he was afraid to go in. Instead he decided to wait outside until either his father got home or Derek did. Stiles smiled at the thought. The homeless werewolf spent so much time at Stiles’ house it might as well be his home. He slept in bed with Stiles, showered there, even ate there, well, when they weren’t eating at Burt’s. His dad had even been getting suspicious as to where all the food was going. Derek felt comfortable enough to walk around in his underwear in his house, although that was when his dad wasn’t there.

Stiles wished for a moment that it was just the two of them in the house, him and Derek. His dad was gone so much it might as well be, but whenever he got home Derek had to hide and it was a little depressing. Sometimes he’d let himself imagine that his father knew and was fine with it. It was a fantasy that he knew would never come true, though. Derek was an ex-wanted man. Hell, he was still a criminal as far as his dad was concerned and finding him in bed with his son curled into his arms was not a scenario Stiles looked forward to testing. Not to mention that he was underage. That alone made the whole situation totally fucked up. He let a heavy sigh escape him and laid his head on his knees. Why was his life such a soap opera? As the Wolf Turns. He laughed at his joke although there was no one there to hear it…or so he thought. 

He heard a noise out in the distance. It was the sound of footsteps. They seemed like they were meant to be hushed and fear imbedded itself into Stiles. He could barely see past the porch light as the night was dark. He slowly got to his feet and backed up against the door. “Derek?” he asked, timidly out into the darkness. No one answered but he heard more footsteps. They were louder this time, like the person had given up on hiding. They sounded like they were coming toward him and after only a few moments a man came out of the shadows in front of him and stood in the light. He was tall and blond with dark eyes. He couldn’t really tell what color they were in the dim light. He wore a long black jacket that hugged him perfectly, almost like it was tailored. The front of his sand-colored shirt under the jacket was tucked into his low-hanging, faded jeans. 

He looked young, handsome, and put together, almost like he had climbed out of a Macy’s catalogue. Stiles would have thought he was sexy if he hadn’t been staring at him like a creeper in the darkness of the late afternoon. His palms started sweating and he spoke with a shaky voice. “W-Who are you?” he demanded. It didn’t help him sound threatening when his voice cracked and he cursed himself for it. The man smiled, his perfect white teeth glistening in the porch light. 

“My name’s Eagle, pleased to meet you.” He said. His voice was deep and mysterious and it made Stiles instantly think of the Master Chief from Halo. God the man was sexy. He should have known, though, with his luck, that he’d be a Tengu. Of course he was! Stiles was always the one running unintentionally into danger. At the hospital with Derek’s uncle, at the auto shop with the Kanima, at the police station with the hunters. It was just his luck! His heart started beating hard in his chest and it was becoming difficult to breath. 

“What do you want?” he asked sounding out of breath. Eagle took a step forward and Stiles pressed himself against the door. He would have run inside but the door was still locked and he doubted very much that he could get it open before Eagle swooped down on him. Instead he stood there, fear melting him into a useless puddle. The Tengu came right up to him, only about two feet away.

“I need you to come with me.” His voice was even and suggestive. He must be crazy, though, if he thought Stiles was going anywhere with him.

“No way, dude!” he said when Eagle grabbed his arm. He tried to wrench it from his grip but he was holding too tight. It hurt and Stiles just knew it was going to bruise badly.

“You don’t really have a choice in the matter.” Stiles was scared, even more so if that was possible. Where was Derek? All he could think about was when Derek would come to help him. Wait… what the hell was wrong with him?! He was perfectly capable of handling himself! Ok, so that was a lie, especially when he was being dragged away from his porch by the muscled Adonis of a werepigeon. Hadn’t he been the one who had tried to convince Derek that he could handle himself? What would he say if he saw Stiles not even trying to fight back? He wouldn’t be happy, that was for sure. 

Stiles succumbed to a burst of energy, digging his heels into the ground and pulling his arm away from the Tengu’s grasp. He scrambled away and made a b-line for the door. The keys from his pocket were in the lock in an instant and he fumbled around trying to unlock the door. He heard a shriek from behind him, and he’d be damned if it didn’t sound just like an eagle. He tried to turn the key but the old lock was being so fucking stubborn! He was too late, though. He felt sharp talons dig into his arm, blood leaking out from the puncture wounds. Forget bruising, that was going to scar!

It was painful when Eagle turned him around, his talons still embedded in his arm. His other taloned hand reached up and wrapped around his throat. The man had changed. Under the sleeves of the jacket Stiles could see sand-gold feathers poking out. White feathers had replaced his hair, standing slightly on end as he yelled at Stiles, his pale, yellow eyes burning with fury.

“There’s no way you can escape, so it would be better for you,” he twisted his talons in Stiles arm and he let out a pained cry and squeezed his eyes shut, “if you just cooperated.” Stiles was angry at himself for nodding, but the searing pain in his arm made him weak. His eyes snapped open when a roar rang out into the air. He felt brief pain again as the talons were ripped from his arm. Stiles looked over at the two bodies that were on the ground, tousling around and slashing at each other like crazy. It was Derek, thank God! The Alpha had tackled Eagle to the ground and was clawing at him with a fury Stiles had never seen him possess. “Stiles, run!” he heard a voice from behind him yell. It was Allsion running up to him, bow drawn and knocked, with the wolves following closely behind, wolfed-out and growling. He saw Derek fly through the air as Eagle threw him off. As the Tengu stood up he was met with an arrow imbedding itself right into his chest, then another, and another. Stiles was frozen in place, too shocked to move.

“Stiles!” Derek yelled as Eagle bounded toward him. It was like the arrows didn’t even bother him even though he was covered with them. He looked like a feathery pin-cushion. He felt himself being scooped up into Derek’s arms and carried away just as the vicious talons were about to slash into him. The three Betas pounced on the Tengu but he didn’t even budge. Instead he threw them off of him with and angry shriek. Allison had emptied all the arrows she had into him, fifteen, but he wasn’t even fazed. Scott, Erica, and Boyd scrambled to their feet when Eagle let out another shriek. 

His body folded in on itself and started spasming violently. The perfectly tailored jacket he wore ripped, as well and the rest of his clothes, as feathers burst through the seams. His face contorted and stretched transforming into the head of an eagle. A long, curved, sharp yellow beak protruded from his face. Stiles gasp when two large wings unfolded from his back and the entire pack staggered when he shrieked again. “Holy shit! Definitely not a pigeon!” Stiles yelled, pulling at Derek’s jacket. Eagle had his eyes still fixed on Stiles and started charging towards him. Derek moved in front of him, trying to protect him.

Stiles was scared. The fully transformed Tengu was three times the size of Derek, what did he hope to accomplish?! He was going to get himself killed. Just as the creature lunged towards them, Deaton appeared out of nowhere. He had something in his hand. It looked like a dagger, but had three sides. Stiles didn’t really get a good look before he thrust it into the Tengu’s side. Eagle shrieked and writhed in pain. His taloned hands grasped his side and Stiles could see red vapor pouring out of the stab wound. It reminded him of the time that Derek was shot with the wolfsbane bullet, only instead of blue the vapor was red.

The Tengu hissed at Deaton but with a wave of the dagger, it retreated. The gusts that its massive wings made as it picked up off the ground were so strong Stiles had to hold onto Derek to keep from literally blowing away. The Tengu soared into the air and flew away. Its shrieks and caws could still be heard fading in the distance. The pack all ran towards Stiles, and Derek had rolled up his short sleeve, inspecting the talon wounds. Stiles felt himself being pulled into a bone-crushingly tight hug. Derek pet the back of his head as he nuzzled into his neck, apparently not deterred by the present company. “Stiles, are you all right?!” He heard Scott ask with worry in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What the hell did you stab that thing with, doc?” Stiles asked the doctor with curiosity. He was having trouble breathing as Derek’s hug didn’t show any signs of letting up any time soon. He didn’t mind, though. Deaton handed him the dagger and he inspected it over Derek’s shoulder. It was golden and intricately designed. The dagger did have three blades, each one radiating from a center, golden rail that they were connected to. It looked very ornamental with beads and gem stones in it shaft and finely chiseled designs and symbols on the blades.

“It’s called a phurbu. Tibetan Buddhists used them to fight away evil spirits. They work particularly well on the Tengu.” Stiles nodded and tried to hand it back to him but he just shook his head. “Keep it, Stiles. You need it for protection.”

“You’re bleeding badly.” Scott said as her reached for Stiles’ arm. He pulled his hand back, though when Derek growled at him and snapped his jaws. Deaton smiled. “I think we should leave these two alone for a while. Let’s go check up on Isaac.” He said to the pack.

“But Stiles is hurt!” Allison protested.

“I think Derek has got this handled.” He waved a hand at the pack and after some hesitation they started to walk away with the veterinarian.

“Stiles, call me later?” Scott asked. Stiles craned his neck around but couldn’t face him as Derek wouldn’t let him turn around. The damn werewolf was too strong for his own good.

“I will, Scott.” With that, the pack left, and Stiles didn’t even get a chance to think before Derek picked him up bridal style and carried him into the house, the phurbu hanging limply in his hand. Derek didn’t look happy when he laid him on the couch. Stiles blushed when he remembered exactly what had happened on that very same couch just that morning. When he looked into Derek’s eyes, though, he didn’t see anything but…anger? Oh God…was he in trouble?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Tengu are, indeed, real legends in Asian culture. I chaged some things around, though. I made them a type of werecreature as to better fit in the Teen Wolf universe. You like? :D If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!


	7. He Likes It Rough

Stiles bit his lip and fidgeted nervously under the heavy eyes of Derek’s less than pleased looking glare. He hadn’t said a word as he carried Stiles upstairs to the bathroom. He didn’t even listen to Stiles protests or react to his struggling. He had plopped him down on the bathroom counter rather roughly and he gasped when Derek ripped his shirt off and Stiles blushed again as he remembered the morning. 

Now Derek was knelt in front of him and was staring at his hurt arm. When he put a hand on Stiles’ bare chest and rested the other gently on his shoulder as he inspected the wound, Stiles couldn’t help but squirm. “Stop that.” Derek commanded with a thick, rough voice. Stiles imagined that the contact affected him too and he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. It was soon replaced by a frown again, though, as Derek glared at him. If he wasn’t sure that he was in trouble before, he was sure now. Silence hung in the air again. It was thick and not necessarily uncomfortable, but charged and loaded. Stiles felt like any moment the situation could explode and he definitely didn’t want that.

So, instead, he chose to sit in silence, the only sounds being the quick breaths and hisses he made when Derek dabbed a cloth soaked in rubbing alcohol over his wound, wiping up the blood and sanitizing it. He could see Derek pause and clench his jaw every time he made a pained noise. The hand that had dropped to his thigh as he cleaned the wound squeezed gently, almost like he was trying sooth him, at the noises as well. Derek put away the cloth after the wound was cleaned and reached for a bandage. The crinkling of the wrapping as he took out the large patch was too much for Stiles. He had to say something or the silence was going to choke him to death.

“Are you mad at me, Derek?...” he asked, timidly. His voice was low and quiet and sounded pathetic and childish, even to his ears. Derek froze for a moment but just continued what he was doing. There was more silence as he finished putting the bandage on, rubbing over Stiles’ arm, gently. His fingertips brushed his skin so lightly that it tickled. Derek hung his head low, apparently not able to look Stiles in the eyes. A few more seconds passed before he spoke. His voice was quiet as well and it sounded like it was tense.

“Why didn’t you stay at the clinic, Stiles?” he asked. His head was so close to Stiles’ leg that his cheek would occasionally brush against his knee. Stiles didn’t really feel like freaking out about it, though, as he was a little too confused and curious as to why Derek asked him that question.

“I was bored, so I went home to wait for you.” Stiles said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Derek’s hand was still resting on his thigh and Stiles meeped as he squeezed his it again, that time harder.

“I told you to stay. You _promised_ me you’d stay.” Derek answered in that same quiet yet tense tone.

“I did, Derek.” Derek looked up, finally meeting his eyes. They looked full of anger and…pain.

“Stiles, are you seriously trying to lie to me about this?! I found you _at your house_ , of course you didn’t stay!” Derek was raising his voice now and it was making Stiles uneasy.

“Wait, you actually wanted me to stay at the clinic? I thought-”

“Of course I wanted you to stay at the clinic!” Derek had stood up from his kneeling position and shook Stiles by the arms, getting up in his face. His teeth were clenched hard and he looked really pissed off.

“O-Ow!” Stiles yelped, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. Derek had clenched his fingers right over his wound and it hurt like a bitch! He froze and a look of horror crept onto his face as he realized he had hurt Stiles. He ripped his hand from his arm like he had touched a hot flame and quickly turned around, his back facing Stiles. Coward! Stiles was a little mad after that.

“What the fuck, Derek?! That hurt!” He yelled, holding his injured arm. 

“I…I’m sorry…”

“You’re damn right you’re sorry! And for your information, when you said stay I thought you just meant not to go after Erica!” After saying that out loud Stiles could see how stupid he’d been to actually think that’s what Derek meant, but he’d never let the werewolf know that. The loaded silence fell into the air again, crushing them both. A full two minutes passed before Derek turned around. He knelt in front of Stiles again and looked up into his eyes. He took Stiles’ hands in his, after kissing one, a gesture that Stiles refused not to let his heart melt at, even though he wanted to, and rubbed his thumbs over them. 

“I’m sorry…It doesn’t even matter, none of it matters. The only thing I care about is that you’re safe now…” He let his gaze drop to their hands. “I just…Do you know how scared I was? I _felt_ it. I _felt_ that you were in trouble. It made go a little crazy.” His eyes flicked back up to Stiles’. “It’s just, I couldn’t see you get hurt. I couldn’t see you die too, like everyone else I ever cared about. I… I lo-” Derek paused.

Holy shit of all the shits that are holy! Please, don’t let him say what he was thinking he was about to say! Stiles swallowed and Derek must have sensed his unease. The words he was saying just floated out into space and died and Stiles had never been so relieved in his life. 

“Well…I care about you, Stiles. A lot.” He held onto Stiles’ hands like they would save him from drowning. 

“I know, Derek. I care a lot about you too.” That wasn’t a lie, he really did. It’s just, if Derek had said what he thought he was going to say…He’s really not sure what would have happened, actually. All he knew was that he _really_ wasn’t ready for that. Or was he?... Oh, God! Did he- 

He didn’t have time to finish his thoughts, though, as he was pulled into a tight hug. Derek lifted him off of the counter, unintentionally, but Stiles used the opportunity to wrap his legs around his waist. They just stayed like that, hugging each other with Stiles hanging on to him, as the minutes passed by. After a while, though, Stiles moved his head to look at Derek. The man sensed his shift and looked at him. Jesus, the man was so beautiful! He didn’t even think, just leant in and kissed him. His scruffy stubble was scratchy, but to be honest, it kind of just turned him on. How was he so lucky to be able to just kiss someone like Derek? Forget Eagle, Derek was truly the sexiest man alive! They broke the kiss as Stiles stomach made a pitiful noise. Derek just raised an eyebrow at him, the cute bastard.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you make me some food?” Derek’s face turned up into a smile and he kissed Stiles again. He walked them both downstairs while they were still kissing and while Stiles was still wrapped around him. 

Fuck yeah, noms!

//Oo,,.,oO\\\

The clack of gun parts rang through the cement room as Malcolm and her hunters messed around with their weapons. Great Horn stood in the center, under the single light that hung off a beam in the ceiling by an extension cord, and watched them all with curiosity. Humans were such strange creatures. They were so inferior in strength, speed, and, in most cases, intelligence, yet they were always such formidable opponents. Well, except against the Tengu of course.

His ears flicked back as he heard someone approach him from behind. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Great Horn was gifted with the ability to move silently, but others were not. The sounds they made as they moved were so easy for him to identify. It didn’t matter if he could identify him or not by his movements, though, because the man spoke, his voice thick with a French accent. “We have been waiting for such a long time. Is he ever going to return?” the man asked.

Great Horn turned around to face him. The man’s skin was the color of wet dirt and the light from the bulb made it glow with a slight aura of gold. “He’ll be back, Falcon, he always is.”

“Always? Ha! What about the time he vanished for nearly three months?! Knowing him he’s probably dead.” Great Horn couldn’t help a small, hollow laugh from escaping his mouth.

“I doubt a pack of adolescents could best Eagle.” He heard Malcolm scoff from her place at the table behind him. More noise crept around him from two more bodies. The movements of the two were much more graceful than Falcon’s, however.

“I don’t know, Great Horn. I’ve been watching these kids for a while now. They can hold their own pretty well.” A very young woman said. Her light brown skin had a similar affect to Falcon’s in the light. 

“Ha! Do not be foolish, Raven, they do not stand a chance!” another woman said. She had a heavy Japanese accent and she wore a decadent pink, silk kimono on her body, the patterns on the garment being of streams flowing from the mountains into the ocean. Birds dotted the kimono, flying around and dropping feathers which lined the garment in decadent arcs and swirls. The back of the kimono was strange, however. It was missing completely, the fabric just draping down onto her lower back and leaving the rest exposed. It wasn’t exactly like the kimonos from her native country, and instead had been altered specifically for the Tengu. 

Raven just shook her head, strands of her long black hair falling into her face. “You shouldn’t be so arrogant. I’m telling you, this pack isn’t as weak as the others, they’re not going to go down easily.” 

“And we are supposed to take this advice from a raven? It is a wonder how your people even survived the Genocide of the Tengu! Ravens are weak! It is no wonder you find these _children_ formidable!”

“The Lakota Tengu aren’t weak, you hag!” Raven responded with venom practically dripping from her voice. She looked like she was ready to slash the other woman’s throat out, her talons already extended. Great Horn stepped in before that could happen, though. He heard the sounds of another coming down the entrance way to the bunker and he knew it was Eagle.

“Raven, Osprey, stop! The sound of you two arguing is like listening to a dying werewolf, it’s so pathetic and unnecessary.” He said, rubbing his eyes, “Eagle is back.” The other Tengu turned to face the doorway. Something wasn’t right. Eagle sounded…hurt. Impossible!...wasn’t it? Great Horns suspicions were proved right, however, when Eagle stumbled into sight. He was clutching his side and had arrows stuck in his body as though he were an unfortunate practice target. His clothes were torn to shreds and barely covered his body.

Although he could barely stand, the others didn’t move to help him, and he fell to the floor in front of them. Raven looked at Great Horn with an unsure expression, though, and he eventually nodded to her. She rushed to Eagle’s side and immediately started pulling out the arrows. If they weren’t removed, he wouldn’t heal properly and could die. Great Horn knew that even a juvenile Tengu could take twice as many arrows directly to the heart, the real injury must be the one he was clutching at his side. 

He turned his head, and only his head, around to look at Malcolm and her crew with a slight sideways glance as he wasn’t able to turn his head _completely_ around. They stood there, gaping at Eagle like the idiot humans they were. “Malcolm, make yourself useful and get an injury kit.” His voice made the entire crew of hunters jump and with a quick nod Malcolm went to get the kit.

Falcon let out a sinister laugh. “It looks like the children were too much for him to handle after all. And it appears that he couldn’t even take the most nonthreatening human out of the pack.” His face turned up into a large, mocking smile. 

“Shut up, you French ass-hole!” Eagle said, weakly, although he had attempted to sound threatening. That just made Falcon laugh harder. 

“What happened to you, Eagle?” Raven asked in concern.

“Can’t you see?” Osprey said, “He was obviously overwhelmed by arrows.” Both Osprey and Falcon burst into laughter and even Great Horn let a chuckle escape his lips. Malcolm returned with the injury kit and Raven immediately went to work patching up the wounded Tengu.

“Shut up! You all know damn well that’s not what happened! One of those fuckers had a phurbu!” Eagle said through gritted teeth. The whole room fell silent. Raven even stopped cleaning his wounds for a few moments but it didn’t stop her for long. 

“A phurbu? Impossible!” Osprey said in denial.

“Does this look impossible to you, you Japanese bitch?!” Eagle moved his hand and showed the stab wound that the phurbu made. It was still leaking the red vapor. The other Tengu let out disapproving sounds.

“How is that possible? A legitimate phurbu has not been seen since the Genocide.” Falcon said. It was true. All of the existing phurbu had stopped being enchanted and maintained after the Tengu were thought to be wiped out. It’s curious that one was still able to affect Eagle in that way, but even more curious was that someone had the knowledge and the initiative to maintain the enchantment, even though the Tengu were thought to be extinct. 

Raven finished patching up Eagle’s arrow wounds and looked to the stab wound. “How can we help him?” she asked. Great Horn walked over to the weakened Tengu and knelt down. He forced him to move his hands away and inspected the wound.

“This doesn’t look too bad, although I have to admit that even I don’t know much about phurbu wounds.” The southerner said. “It’s my guess that you’ll probably die.” That got a smirk out of Falcon. 

“What?! There has to be _something_ we can do!” Eagle yelled. He sounded so pathetic. 

“I agree, we can’t just let him die!” Raven chimed in.

Osprey scoffed. “And why not? He failed a simple task. He could not even bring us a weak human!”

“They stabbed me with a phurbu, how was I expected to be prepared for that?!”

“You were not expected to be prepared. However, you should have been able to avoid it.” Falcon chided.

“What, Frenchie, you could have done better?”

Falcon just smirked and made a rude gesture with his hand. “ _Oui_.” Great Horn turned his head around and looked at Falcon. 

“Good. Give it your best shot. Get the boy in a week, no more. Are we clear?” he said. Falcon laughed at him.

“I do not know why you think you can command me, but regardless, I will get the boy in a week.” Falcon didn’t even wait for a response. Instead he just walked out the doorway and headed for the surface.

“Now,” Great Horn said, directing his attention back towards Eagle, “let’s see what we can do for you.”

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Monday rolled around eventually. Sunday had been torturous. It was his father’s day off so he hadn’t seen Derek almost the entire day because his father had wanted to spend quality time with him. It wasn’t a bad thing, though. Stiles actually quite enjoyed spending time with his father. The problem was that Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about Derek and no matter how much he tried the only thing he wanted on Sunday was for the night to come so that he could cuddle with Derek in bed. His father had sensed something was wrong and asked him if he was alright several times.

He said he was fine every time even though he wasn’t. What was he supposed to say? ‘Sorry, dad, I’m just thinking about my ex-criminal twenty-four-year-old boyfriend.’ Somehow he thought that wouldn’t go over well. But when the night finally did come around he literally jumped into Derek’s arms as soon as he climbed through his window and showered him with kisses. He didn’t know he could miss someone that bad. They practically spent every day together, actually they did spend every day together, so it was amazing that neither of them wanted to kill each other.

So as he was standing in front of the school, just staring at the doors, it went without saying that the only thing that he could think about was when school would be over and he could see Derek again. They had found each other in the parking lot before and had a heavy make-out session, but when people started showing up and staring as they walked by they figured it was best to wait. He said goodbye and walked up to the school, even though he really didn’t want to. 

Stiles let out a heavy sigh as he accepted defeat and trudged up the walkway and went into the school. He was startled when someone grabbed his arm pulled him into an empty room before he even reached his locker.

“Wha- Hey, what the hell?!” The door clicked shut and he turned around to see Allison staring at him. Her face was a mix of concern and anger and Stiles had to admit that he was a little afraid of the girl. When she spoke she was quick and to the point.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing with Derek?” Stiles froze. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone because he wasn’t exactly sure what his answer would even be. What was he doing with Derek? He was pretty sure they were together, like, you know… _together_ , but he’d be damned if he’d admit that to anyone…voluntarily.

“What are you talking about?” he feigned innocence. Allison shot him a look that sad ‘come one, really?’ 

“Stiles. What are you doing with Derek?” she asked again.

“I…nothing, God!” he threw his hands up in the air, resorting to his overacting as a subconscious defense.

“Really, Stiles, do you think we’re blind? Are you with him?” He chewed on his lip nervously.

“Well I…you know.”

“What the hell, Stiles?! Are you out of your mind?!” Yes, yes he was.

“What?”

“He’s dangerous, Stiles, a murderer!”

“Derek hasn’t murdered anyone!...Well, anyone who didn’t deserve it.” He bit his lip hard as he realized what he just said. Allison looked livid. She slammed him against the door and took a choke hold on his throat.

“What did you just say?” her voice was cold and quiet and that was way fucking scarier than if she had just yelled at him.

“All-Allison, you know what I mean.”

“No! No, I really don’t Stiles!” She tightened her grip on his throat. “My mother DIDN’T DESERVE IT! He MURDERED her, Stiles!” Stiles struggled against her grip. It was kind of pathetic how long it took him to pry her hand from around his throat. He should work out more or something. He rubbed his neck idly and glared at Allison.

“Do you even know why Derek bit your mother?!” Stiles shot. Allison looked surprised at his question. It looked like she really didn’t know what to say so Stiles just continued. “You mother tried to KILL Scott!” Allison’s breath hitched.

“She what?...”

“She tried to kill Scott, Allison. With a vaporizer full of wolfsbane.” His voice dropped to a soft, nonthreatening tone. “Didn’t anyone tell you? Scott called for help and when Derek came she attacked him. He was just defending himself and Scott.”

“I…I…” Allison’s face was pale and she looked like she was about to throw up. Stiles could see tears welling up in her eyes but she was too tough to let them fall. “I need to go.” She said, brushing past him and practically running past him out the door.

Well…that was awkward.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Lunch came soon enough to Stiles’ enjoyment. Allison was nowhere to be found and Scott had asked him where she was. When he told him what had happened the teen freaked out. “You WHAT?!”

“I told her why Derek bit her mother…”

“Why would you do that, Stiles?!”

“Weeeell, she was choking me and it was about time someone told her the truth about Derek.”

“You shouldn’t have done that!”

“What, I was just supposed to let her keep thinking that Derek is some kind of monster?!…Well, aside from him being a werewolf, but you know what I mean!” The rest of the pack stood and watched and it was getting really awkward for Stiles.

“Yes! It would have been better for her to not know! Just because you’re sleeping with Derek doesn’t mean that everyone else has to see the ‘good’ in him!” Stiles heart stopped. The rest of the pack shuffled around awkwardly, no one willing to meet each other’s eyes. 

“I… I’m not-” Stiles tried to say, completely stunned. Scott didn’t want to hear it, though. He just waved his hands at him and scowled, running off somewhere and leaving Stiles in a very unpleasant situation with the rest of the pack.

So now that lunch was finally here he was glad that he could have a chance to breath, even if he did have to sit at the same table with everyone after that incredibly embarrassing moment. No one seemed to be willing to talk about what had happened and everyone just ate in silence. Well, everyone except for Erica and Jackson who had huge mischievous smiles on their faces and kept letting little giggles erupt from them. Finally Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. He had to clear the air.

“I’m _not_ sleeping with him, guys!” he said, waving his arms around. He slunk down in his chair a little as some people from the other tables gave him weird looks. He really needed to learn to control the volume of his voice sometimes.

“Then what are you doing with him?” Erica asked, her grin widening. The others stared at him expectantly. Why did he always get himself into these situations?

“Well…you know…I, uh… We’re just friends?” Real convincing there, Stiles…

“With benefits?” Jackson added. Stiles gaped at him.

“No!”

“Friends? You really expect us to believe that, Stiles? On minute you both hate each other and the next you’re sharing passionate embraces?” Lydia said. Her tone was unenthused, like she was bored with the conversation already. 

“P-Passionate…embraces?” Stiles really didn’t know what to say and the huge lump that took up residency in his throat made it hard to breath. Danny and Jacob sat down with the pack and Danny looked around the scene with confusion.

“What’s going on, guys?” he asked. Erica was the one to answer, the bitch.

“Stiles was just about to tell us about all the hot, crazy sex he’s been having with Derek.” Her eyes were burning with mischief. Stiles couldn’t even answer and just let out a rather unmanly squeak. 

“I knew it!” Danny chirped, a little too excitedly. Stiles was frozen in a state of shock and although he tried as hard as he could, he couldn’t find words. Stiles, couldn’t find words! What the fuck?!

“You did?” Jackson asked with curiosity.

“Well, I had my suspicions.”

“I bet it’s rough. Derek looks like he likes it rough. Is it rough, Stiles?” Erica asked. He swore, if she said ‘rough’ one more time he would fly across the table and rip her hair out.

“Of course it’s rough, but Stiles looks like he can take it.” Jackson said. The table erupted into laughter. Were they seriously talking about this?! A fiery red blush exploded on Stiles’ face and after that he finally was able to speak, albeit not very well.

“I- What?! There is no sex, or roughness- We’re not- I’m not- I- Oh my God!” He buried his head in his arms and wished he were dead. 

“Awww, so it’s soft and sweet? That’s so cute.” Isaac said, his voice mocking but actually had an undertone of sincerity. Stiles glared at him and really wished he had the ability to strangle people with the Force like Darth Vader.

“No! There is no sweetness, no roughness, NO SEX! I’M NOT HAVING SEX WITH DEREK!” He yelled. The cafeteria was silenced and everyone was staring at him. Oh God, please kill him now. He was pretty sure his skin tone permanently changed to a flush red.

“Well then what is with you two?” Boyd asked in a serious tone after the other students went back to their own lunches and conversations. Stiles really didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but he knew if he didn’t then everyone would just jump to their own conclusions.

“We’re just… We’re kind of seeing each other. But there’s no sex! God, guys!”

“No sex _yet_.” Erica smirked. Stiles really hated her right now. Lydia huffed.

“No sex? How boring. Give me an update when you get some, though. Until then, you’re going to tell me everything about your relationship.” She said. Was she serious?!

“What? No! That’s kind of personal guys! Why are we even talking about this?!”

“I don’t know, but I haven’t been this entertained in a long time.” Jacob said with a smile.

“Look, I just-” Stiles began to say but he was interrupted by the bell. Thank God! He quickly got up without a word and ran for the door, not even worrying about his tray.

“Don’t think you can get out of this, Stilinski, you _will_ tell me everything!” He heard Lydia yell as he bravely ran away. God, he needed to get out of there!

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Jacob lay awake in his bed in the dark. The other kids in the room were sound asleep, but he wasn’t. He glanced at the alarm clocks dim, green glowing numbers. They read 12:23pm. He figured it was good a time as any. He very quietly snuck out of his bed and slipped out the door. The rest of the house was quiet and the darkness was broken occasionally by the moonlight shining in from the windows. He walked through the living room, his bare feet tapping quietly against wood as he came to the door leading to the basement and traipsed down the stairs after shutting and locking it securely behind him.

The basement was pitch black and he couldn’t see a thing but he had come down here so often over the weeks that he stepped through the darkness and just let his instinct and memory carry him to where he needed to go. The charged air let him know he wasn’t alone even before he turned on the light and when he did his grandpa gave him a quick nod. With the light shone on the cold cement of the basement floor and revealed the symbols that he had drawn on it. Each one of the eight representing a different power and they were connected by a circular line drawn through them. Jacob stood inside the circle and looked to his grandpa. 

He had done this so many time before now that he didn’t even need time to prepare anymore. “Are you ready?” he asked. He was going to start anyway, but his grandpa held up a hand. 

“ _No. This is taking too long, Jacob_.” He said. 

“What do you mean?” 

“ _The Power Siphoning isn’t giving out enough energy. You can’t give me what I need and at this rate it will be years before I become a specter_.” Jacob was confused. He had always been the one to share his energy with his grandfather. How was he supposed to find more to give when each session drained him too badly already?

“Where am I supposed to find more energy?” he asked. His grandpa didn’t say anything, just slowly looked up at the ceiling. Jacob looked at him in in confusion before realization hit him like a train.

“Are you insane?! We can’t use them!”

“ _Why not? It won’t kill them if you balance the Siphon between them_.”

“They have no business in this! I can’t take advantage of them like that!” His voice was a raised whisper, not wanting to alarm the rest of the house.

“ _It wouldn’t hurt them. In the morning it would just be like they had a bad night’s sleep_.” Although that was true, how could he do that to the other teens, to the children?!

“I can’t take advantage of them like that!” His grandpa looked at him with disappointment.

“ _If you don’t do this, I will never make the transition_.” Jacob was torn, but not for long. He drew the line there! This wasn’t the first time his grandpa had made him wonder. When his grandpa was alive he would have _never_ supported this. Why would he abandon his morals so quickly then?

“Grandpa, no. We’ll do it the normal way.” His grandpa didn’t look happy, his ethereal face turning down in anger. Jacob shifted nervously when he walked up to him. He placed a hand on his chest and the sparks skipped through his body. There was something else, though. Jacob could feel the tendrils of the corruption spring to life at the touch. They started to constrict around him like they would if he had used dirty necromancy. He tried to push them back but he couldn’t.

Jacob was afraid and when he tried to pull away he couldn’t move. His grandpa looked him in the eyes and spoke. “Do it Jacob.” Something inside of his snapped. His fear, his morals, everything, just crumbled away until the only thing that he felt was an overwhelming urge to do as he was told. He nodded and his grandpa released him with a smile. Jacob knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn’t, but his body didn’t feel like it was his own as they both made their way up the stairs after Jacob grabbed a bag from a chest downstairs.

He wanted to tell his grandpa that this was wrong, that it was evil and that he didn’t want to do it. Every time he tried to speak, though, he felt the corruption swell up and silence him. They went into the first room, the children’s room. There were four in here, sleeping in the bunk beds. He heard his grandpa speak next to him. “ _Dormite… Just in case they wake up_.” The smile he gave him was malicious. What had happened to his grandpa? He walked to the first bed he could find. A little girl, Terra was her name, only ten years old, slept soundly in it and Jacob tried to fight his body as he took out chalk and a knife from his bag, but the corruption crushed his attempts again.

He took her arm in his hand and drew one of the eight symbols on her skin. She stirred as he did it, but he knew she wouldn’t wake up because of the spell his grandpa put over them. After the symbol was drawn he took the knife in his hand and pressed the blade against the skin he’d drawn the symbol on. He fought hard against the corruption but it was no use. If anything, trying to push it away was only making it stronger. He clenched his jaw as he cut her arm. It wasn’t deep, just enough to draw some blood.

He knew what would come next. He needed to speak the symbol’s name to activate the Siphon. Latin wouldn’t work with this kind of necromancy. It was and old practice and required an older language, the first language of necromancy. He wouldn’t do it, though. He refused to speak the name. He tried so hard, clenching his jaw tight, but he should have known it would be inevitable.

“Fixsusk.” He growled. His voice wasn’t his own and the complete and utter lack of control over his own action made his eyes start to tear up. A blood red aura was lit around her after he spoke and he watched as it swirled around like lazy smoke and drifted to the phantasm. His grandpa absorbed it without hesitation and in a split second it was over. The symbol had vanished and the cut had healed. The only evidence left that anything had happened to her was that she would feel weak in the morning. It seemed so innocent. Who was really hurt by it, right? But Jacob knew it was wrong, he knew it was evil to do that to someone against their will. The corruption in his soul grew and he knew it. This is what his parents had warned him of. He was already too far gone.

“ _Good_.” His grandpa said. “ _Now the others_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!


	8. Runes

Derek made a noise of protest when Stiles playfully elbowed him in the ribs. He was standing behind the teen with his arms wrapped around his waist and his nose buried in the crook of his neck as Stiles stirred sugar and flour together in a large, glass mixing bowl. He knew Stiles liked it, though, so he didn’t bother moving away and instead pulled him closer. Stiles giggled when the nose on his necked turned to lips that peppered kisses up and down his pale skin.

“Derek, stop, I’m trying to mix.” Stiles said, struggling slightly, although it had no real worth. He squeaked in surprise when Derek roughly spun him around and pressed himself against his body. Derek couldn’t help a smirk at seeing a blush creep onto his face. He loved it when he made Stiles blush. He looked into the teen’s eyes for a few moments until he heard him swallow with anticipation which made him press his lips to his. The kiss was soft but the want behind it was almost painful. 

“How about, instead, we go upstairs and I can mix you up.” Derek said against Stiles’ lips. 

“Really, Derek? That didn’t even make any sense!” Stiles said with a goofy grin. A blush painted his nose and Derek couldn’t help but nuzzle it with his own. “And besides, I told you I wanted to make these cookies.” Derek just huffed, and went back to sniffing Stiles’ neck.

“Does it have to make sense?” He nipped at the teen’s neck to make his point and smirked against his skin when Stiles let out a small sound. He didn’t have much time to enjoy it, however, before he was pushed away by a very red and smiley Stiles. 

“No, Derek! Get me the eggs, please.” Derek pouted but the look that Stiles gave him made him groan, angrily, in defeat. He went to the fridge as Stiles went back to his mixing and took out a carton of eggs. “Hey, grab the vanilla extract too.” Derek rolled his eyes but obediently brought him the ingredients, setting them down beside the other ingredients, and then taking up his spot behind Stiles again. He wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin over his shoulder to watch him work.

Stiles mixed in some baking soda and… “Salt?” Derek asked with curiosity, “Wouldn’t that make it… you know, salty?” Stiles just laughed and turned his head to kiss his cheek.

“Awww, how sweet. How about you just enjoy the cookies and don’t ask questions.” Stiles said, although there was really no bite in his words. Derek just chose to nuzzle his neck some more as Stiles mixed in the butter, eggs, and chocolate chips. He perked up when he smelled the chocolate. Derek could say he had a thing for chocolate. It always reminded him of home and family when he smelled it. Admittedly, it was a little painful to think of his family every time he smelled chocolate, but now he had something else to associate the smell with. He couldn’t help himself from inhaling a deep breath of Stiles’ scent, loving the fact that the teen emanated the intoxicating fragrance. 

The hum of the electric mixer snapped him out of his trance and he watch again as Stiles expertly mixed the dough and then rolled them into little balls and placed them on the cookie sheet. Derek moved away when Stiles went to the oven and slid it in. “How long do you think?” Stiles asked.

“What, you don’t know?”

“It’s been a while and I remember how to make them but cook time is usually a preference. Do you like them doughy or crunchy?” 

“When my mom made them they were soft and delicious.” Derek’s heart fluttered when Stiles smiled and set the timer. He felt like he could honestly melt every time Stiles smiled for him. 

“Soft and delicious it is then.” Derek couldn’t help himself when he grabbed Stiles and held him close, wrapping him up again in his muscled arms.

“I know something else that’s soft and delicious.” He said.

“Really, Derek, you’re so corny!” Stiles just struggled out of his grip and sauntered over into the living room. Derek watched the swish of his hips, whether intentional from Stiles or not, and it made him a little crazy.

“You’re such a tease.” He said, following him to the living room and sitting down on the couch. Stiles scooted up into his side and he wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

“You love me anyway.” Stiles said. Derek felt him tense up immediately after saying it. To be honest, it made him a little mad that Stiles would be so uncomfortable with the thought of Derek loving him, even in just a figurative sense. “Umm… I-”

“I know what you meant, Stiles.” Derek snapped. He couldn’t help the anger from sneaking in his voice. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes before things finally mellowed down as they watched Wizards of Waverly Place. Derek started to growl and he felt Stiles shift against him. 

“Would you stop that? It’s all…rumbly. What’s the matter?” Stiles asked, letting his head fall back against Derek’s shoulder to look up at him.

“This is such a childish show.”

“Haha! Yeah…” Stiles laughed. Derek raised an eyebrow at him.

“Why are we watching it then?”

“Um, because it has Selena Gomez in it? Duh!” Stiles answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So?”

“So she’s awesome! And her looks aren’t bad either.” Derek ground his teeth as he couldn’t help another growl from escaping him.

“You like the way she looks?”

“Awww! Are you jealous?” Stiles laughed as yet another involuntary growl rumbled in Derek’s chest. God, why can’t he control himself?! “Oh my God! You are, aren’t you?!”

“No.” Derek said sternly, a scowl plastered on his face. He blushed when Stiles’ laughing just got stronger.

“Ok, whatever, grumpy cat!”

“Grumpy cat?” 

“Yeah, grumpy cat, you know?” Derek looked at him like he had tiny spaceships orbiting his head. Stiles studied his face with a smile for a while before it slowly faded into a look of disbelief. “Oh. My. God. Are you serious? You don’t know what grumpy cat is?!”

“Should I?” Stiles just gaped at him and Derek felt like an idiot, even if he shouldn’t, for not knowing what the hell he was talking about.

“Oh my God! Why am I even dating you?!” It was Derek’s turn to tense up. 

“Dating? We’re…dating?” Stiles shot him a confused look and shifted uneasily.

“I thought we were…” Derek opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Derek did enjoy what Stiles had said and was jumping for joy on the inside, so why couldn’t he say anything?! Another awkward silence floated in the air. They sure have had a lot of those lately…

“I…we…” Derek tried to force words but there was still nothing. Why can’t he just say something?! It’s not even that big of a deal! Only it was a big deal at the same time. Whatever he said, he didn’t want to say the wrong thing and fuck everything up with Stiles. Although, not saying anything at all probably wasn’t helping either.

“Listen, Derek… I… I thought we were dating and I-” He didn’t let Stiles finish his sentence before he attacked his lips. He caught Stiles completely off guard and when he managed to scoop him up and position him to straddle his lap, Derek smirked with victory. He deepened the kiss and Stiles finally seemed to wake up and return his enthusiasm, their teeth clicking together every so often. By the time they broke the kiss they were both blushing furiously, panting heavily, and were both particularly…excited. That was to say that Derek had a raging hard-on that he was shamelessly grinding up against Stiles’.

He enjoyed the look on Stiles’ face and the small sounds he made every time he thrust his hips up. He kept grinding and loved watching Stiles turn to jelly in his lap. The teen’s mouth was hanging open as small puffs of chocolate breath escaped it, and his eyes were closed, his head tilted back slightly. Derek moved his hands up to stroke his sides as he thrust up particularly hard. Stiles let out a loud moan and buried his head in Derek’s shoulder. Derek didn’t like the position he was in. It was hard to do much of anything that way…well, while clothed that is. 

Instead, he pushed Stiles off him just enough so that he could slide the shirt up and over his head, revealing his pale chest and Stiles gasped when his lips found a nipple. Derek licked it slowly and nipped at it a few times. The noises Stiles was making were enough to make even the straightest man ever spring a boner, he was sure of it. Derek growled when he thought about someone else getting Stiles to make those noises. Only _he_ was allowed to do that to Stiles, to make him lose control and sputter those maddening sounds, and he wasn’t going to share! But luckily for Derek, Stiles was _his_ and so he didn’t have to share. He’d make _sure_ no one else got Stiles but him!

Derek could feel that his wolf fangs had extended when he ground his teeth together and rubbed his face on the soft skin of Stiles’ chest. Stiles made another needy sound when the stubble on Derek’s face scratched his skin and that was it. Derek practically exploded with desire. He roughly picked Stiles up and slammed him down on the couch. The boy breathed a shaky gasp when he connected with the cushions and Derek all but ripped his shirt off before pressing himself down against Stiles, reveling in the feel of his skin against his. He aggressively pushed Stiles legs apart and slid in between them, crushing their groins together again. 

Stiles moaned when Derek started grinding against him again. He hooked his arms up under Stiles’ and wrapped his fingers over his shoulders, pulling his body impossibly closer to his. He was sure that their chests were pressed so hard together that not even air could be pulled through them in the vacuum of space. Derek didn’t even think, he just kept grinding against Stiles. His hands found their way to Derek’s muscled back and his finger pressed into his skin, hopelessly trying to find purchase. Derek attacked his neck with sloppy wet kisses and fierce bites. He tried incredibly hard not to break the skin with his fangs and the effort just made him even harder. 

And, oh God, the sounds that Stiles was making! They sounded so pitiful, so needy, and so…slutty all at once! How was it even possible for one person to be so damn sexy?! Stiles wrapped his legs tight around Derek’s waist and his arms around his back, trying not to fall. Derek didn’t even realize that he had picked the boy up off the couch and was holding him against him as he ground harder down against the teen, one arm bracing himself on the arm of the couch and the other wrapped around Stiles’ back. He licked a slobbery trail from the boy’s sternum all the way up his throat and nipped at his chin with long, pointed fangs. Derek growled angrily when the sound Stiles made from the action was mixed with the annoying beep of the oven timer.

He ignored it though and tried to distract Stiles from thinking about it with a deep, tongue-twining kiss. He knew he failed though when Stiles turned his head to break the kiss. “Derek,” he said, although it was only a breath, “the timer.” Derek ignored him to nip at his neck again. He thought it worked when Stiles just let him keep taking advantage of him for another minute or two, but when he felt the teen try to struggle away he just let him fall back onto the couch and pressed him into the cushions, preventing his escape. “Derek, if we don’t take them out now they won’t be soft and- _ngn_!... Soft and delicious…” Stiles choked on the air when Derek replaced his aching groin with his palm and pressed a cupped hand over Stiles denim-clad hard-on.

“I don’t care, Stiles.” Derek growled in his ear, smirking when a firm squeeze of his hand made Stiles throw his head back with a moan, exposing his neck. Derek didn’t waste time as his lips clasped onto the teen’s pale throat and he sucked and licked and nipped every centimeter of the soft, alabaster skin, although it was stained with a furious pink blush. That just made Derek even hornier. Derek rubbed his hand against Stiles for another minute or so. His fingers found the button of Stiles’ jeans and he effortlessly unlatched it and unzipped his pants, letting his hand cup over Stiles through the much thinner cotton of his Green Lantern boxers. Really, Stiles? Green Lantern again? That thought only skipped across his mind for not even a second before he was pulled back by his need.

The new contact must have spooked Stiles, though, because the boy was freaking out. His heart was pounding extremely fast in his chest, and that wasn’t just because of his arousal, and his breathing was on the verge of hyperventilating. “D-Derek… ah! The cookies…” 

“Don’t worry about them, Stiles…” Derek said, stroking up his length through the cotton. Stiles arched up into him and ground his groin against his palm. The sight of it made Derek forget to hold himself up and he accidentally fell on Stiles, making the boy let out an _oompf_. He picked himself up again, though, pretending it didn’t happen.

“If we don’t take them out now they’re going to burn!” Stiles said in between moans of desire. Derek growled deep in his chest.

“Damn it, Stiles, will you forget about the cookies, we’re a little busy!” Derek would be damned if fucking cookies were going to come between him finishing what they had started on that very same couch four days ago. 

“But, they’ll burn!” Derek roared, not growled, roared, teeth extended, eyes red and everything. The sound made Stiles cower into the cushion with a look of fear on his face. Derek took Stiles’ chin in his free hand and forced him to look into his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust.

“Fine! But if you think we’re not going to finish this…you’re dead wrong.” Derek picked the teen up, guiding his legs to wrap around his waist, and carried him over to the kitchen. Stiles hung on to him and Derek caught his lips in a hot kiss as they walked. He stumbled around on his way, even running into the wall once when he tried to guide them into the kitchen, but they made it without falling over. Derek moved over to the oven and opened it.

“The oven-mits are in the-” Stiles began to say but gasped when Derek just reached in and took the cookie sheet out with his bare hand, threw the sheet on top of the stove, and slammed the oven shut again. “Oh my God, Derek! Are you ok?!” Stiles practically shrieked in horror. Derek was fine. The metal sheet had burned and hurt like a son of a bitch, but he didn’t care. The look of worry and concern on Stiles’ face, concern for _his_ well-being, made him lose all control. He quickly knelt down and laid Stiles against the floor, covering him as quickly as he could. Stiles gasped as he was laid down and Derek hastily pulled his pants down and off his ankles in no time at all, leaving him shirtless but still in pants and Stiles in nothing but his Green Lantern boxers. 

“Derek, the floor is cold.” Stiles said underneath him. At that point, all Derek wanted to do was whatever Stiles wanted. So far the teen hadn’t protested anything that was happening and Derek didn’t want to fuck that up. He moved Stiles up and spun him around. He sat on the floor, leaning against the cabinets under the counter, and pulled Stiles between his legs, his back pressing into his chest. Derek wrapped one arm around the teen’s chest, holding him close, while his other hand grazed over the trail of hair leading down to his crotch and slipped under Stiles’ boxers to grip his cock. The boy moaned and leaned his head back against Derek’s shoulder and the werewolf used the new position to bite at his jaw, his fangs never really retracting from before.

He pumped one firm stroke as an experiment, just to see the boy’s reaction. Stiles moaned out an _ahh_! Derek smirked and did it again, earning the same reaction. He wanted to try something else. He took his thumb and roughly slid it against the slit of his member, making it sticky and slick with pre-cum. That time he screamed out a ‘fuck!’ The sound of him cursing made Derek’s own dick twitch in his pants, painfully reminding him that he was still trapped in the confines of his jeans. “Oh, God, Derek, please, stop fucking with me!” Stiles managed to get out, although it was strained and raspy. Derek didn’t need to be told twice. 

He started pumping his fist, hard and fast. Stiles started to moan and didn’t seem able to stop. He squirmed and writhed and bucked against Derek and up into his fist. The feel of him moving against his chest was making Derek lose control. He desperately wanted to make this last longer, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to. All he needed now was for Stiles to cum and that was it. That was all he wanted. He pumped harder, his fist moving so fast that it blurred with the motion. Stiles’ hands found his arm that was wrapped around his chest and they squeezed hard into his forearm, his vocabulary reduced to one word: _Ahh_! 

He was surprised that Stiles lasted as long as he did at that speed. The horny teen must do a lot of masturbating in his spare time. It was odd, though, because in the weeks Derek has been with him he had never seen or smelled any evidence of it. That must mean that this was going to be his first release in over a month. “Ah, fuck, Derek, I- I-” Stiles moaned as an attempted warning, but he wasn’t able to finish his sentence. Derek just kept pumping as think spurts of cum shot from Stiles and painted his hand in the white, gooey liquid. “Ah, Derek!” The sound of Stiles screaming out his name as he came and his incessant squirming in the ecstasy of his release was enough to push Derek to the edge and he came in his pants. Only the sound of Stiles’ voice was enough to get him off. It was both embarrassing and extremely hot at the same time. His fist slowed and eventually stopped as Stiles rode out the orgasm, completely spent. He couldn’t even hold himself and he just slumped back against Derek, both of them panting. They were sweaty and sticky and gross, but neither of them cared.

They sat in silence, although it wasn’t awkward that time, with Stiles leaning against Derek for nearly ten minutes as they both wound down from what they had just done. Derek was the first to move, turning Stiles body and head to capture his lips in a kiss. It was quick and sloppy, but the meaning wasn’t missed. “Oh, by the way,” Derek said after breaking the kiss with a wet _smack_ , “we are _definitely_ dating.”

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Jacob sat at the large wooden dinner table. The light cast down from the cheap chandelier was harsh because the light bulbs were missing the covers that should have been over them. Although the light shined directly in his eyes, he didn’t squint…or blink. In fact, he was staring. He was staring at Terra, the little girl from that night. The night he tried to block from his memory. She looked so innocent, not even aware of what had happened four days ago…none of them were. As far as they knew, everyone had woken up tired and grouchy, but they just chalked it up to a bad night’s rest, just like his grandpa had said they would.

Jacob cringed at the thought of his grandpa. Who had that person been? His grandpa would have never done something like that. Maybe…Maybe it had just been because he was…dead. His father used to tell him stories about wraiths, spirits who had been kind and loving in life but couldn’t accept death and went insane. Maybe his grandpa wasn’t a phantasm after all…maybe he was a wraith. He was pulled from his own head when the sound of his foster-mother’s voice met his ears.

“Jacob, you’re awfully quiet. And why aren’t you eating?” she asked in her raspy voice that could only belong to a long-time smoker. Jacob looked down at his plate. There was pork chops sitting on it slathered in barbeque sauce and he crinkled his nose at it. He had already eaten his share of side vegetables but he was still hungry given the fact that it was a pitiful amount of food for anyone. 

“I’ve told you before, Sandy, I’m a vegetarian!” he snapped. The other foster-kids looked at him in shock at the tone he shot the woman. Her face was raised high with disbelieving shock as well.

“Excuse me? Don’t yell at me, young man!” she boomed. She stared at him with hard angry eyes for a moment or two before they softened. She continued staring with a pitying gaze. Jacob had seen it before, so many times. It was the ‘I know your family is dead, but hey, cheer up’ face. A face he had come to despise. She looked like she was about to say something but when she opened her mouth Jacob cut her off before she could say anything.

“Can I be excused?” he said quickly and coldly. Sandy eyed him for a second.

“Did you get enough to eat?”

“Yes.” Jacob lied. She nodded at him, watching as he got up and walked to the kitchen. After he was done rinsing off his dishes and putting them in the washer, he slunk off across the house to the door of the basement. He glanced around and listened to make sure no one was around. When he was sure he was alone he slipped past the door, shutting it and locking it behind him. No one ever came down to the basement but him, he wasn’t even sure if the others even knew they had one, but he locked the door anyway. 

He braced himself against the door, his breath coming in long shaky drags. He hadn’t been in the basement since that night. He didn’t even want to think about it. He should never have been so stupid! How could he have let himself get corrupted?! The corruption… After that night he hadn’t been able to push it away. It was just constricting him, a constant presence and a physical ache. It was suffocating! He should have known since his grandpa first suggested blood magic that he was in deep shit… He was so blind… He hadn’t seen his grand- or… the _wraith_ since that night either. He was a little afraid that what he was planning on doing would attract him again, in fact he was sure of it, but he needed answers and this seemed to be the only way to get any.

Taking a steadying breath he slowly crept down the stairs. His bare feet padded across cold concrete floor as he came up to where he knew the light was. He reached up and pulled the string to turn it on, his heart pounding in anticipation. Light illuminated the basement, or at least some of it. Most of the basement was still covered in darkness, but he had enough light for what he needed. He was glad that when he turned it on his… the wraith wasn’t waiting for him. He took the opportunity for exactly what it was and hurried over to a large chest sitting up against the far wall. He knelt down and opened, sifting through junk until he finally found what he was looking for.

It was a grey bad, made with simple and rough material, the kind he didn’t know, and was bound by worn leather string. Some things inside clinked together as he took it out and placed it on the floor in from of him. He sat down, cross-legged, on the floor and opened the bag. He was trying to hurry, not only because he didn’t want the wraith to interrupt him, but also in case someone came looking for him. Jacob carefully turned the bag over and dumped its contents onto the floor. His lips curled up into a smile at seeing the familiar shards.

They were rune stones, Norse rune stones to be exact, although they weren’t really ‘stones’ at all. They belonged to his family, passed down from generation to generation. Each one was made from a shard of bone, the bones of his past ancestors, and had a unique symbol carved into it and then stained with the blood of the same family member that the bone belonged to. The set was very, very old. It should have been creepy and disgusting, but all he thought about was family… and how much he missed them. He quickly went to work turning over the shards so they were all face down and mixed them up so they would be random.

He was going to a do a rune casting. His father used to do them, he was somewhat of an expert, and he had taught him about it. Jacob remembered quite a bit about it, it used to be one of his favorite activities to do with his father, oddly enough. When he was sure they were well mixed he took a breath and began. He was going to do a five rune spread. It was very basic but would give him the answers he sought. First, he needed a clear issue in his mind. Something that needed resolving, like a question of sorts, that the runes could answer. He thought hard for a moment before he came up with his issue:

What have I gotten myself into? Who am I truly associating myself with and are they hurting me or helping me? What can I do to make things right?

Good, now for the next step. He stared at the assortment of runes, each one face down and locked in mystery, and selected five that he felt call to him. They drew him in, he felt strangely connected to them, which was good, it’s what he wanted. He was careful not to turn them over as he laid them going down in a column on the ground. Finally, the reading, and hopefully the answers to his questions. He reached for the top rune and gently turned it over. He studied the symbol painted in blood and contemplated its meaning. The symbol went from a deep burgundy red to a bright red glow as his power interacted with the rune. 

The first symbol was Isa, ice. The first rune in a five rune spread was meant to give a sort of overview of his current situation in life, the situation he was asking about. He thought back to his lessons with his father and what the rune meant. Isa, or ice, symbolized a sort of standstill. It suggested that the caster was holding on to something old, something which no longer belonged and that the same thing wasn’t good. The thing that couldn’t be let go would blind you, fool you, and lead you astray from yourself. It didn’t take a genius to see how that applied to him. It was his grandpa. He figured that rune would state as much.

 

He huffed as he reached for the second rune and turned it over, the blood glowing as it had for the other. The second rune was meant to show the challenge, or the optimal outcome. He had cast Othila, the rune of separation. Othila encouraged the caster to move on from old things and forget the past because it’s unhealthy to dwell on them. The rune suggests that without the separation the caster becomes poisoned… He paled as he remembered the exact word his father had told him: corrupted. He shook his head, trying to ignore how the thought made the blackness in his soul slither and constrict.

Time for the next rune. He turned it over and stared at the glowing symbol. It was Thurisaz, the rune of the gateway, only it was reversed, or not in it correct position. That gave the rune a different meaning. In the spread, the third rune was meant to give a course of action to realizing the caster’s goal, or lead him to the answer of his question. In its reversed position, the rune encouraged change. It wants the caster to bring in the new and push out the old. He was beginning to see a theme. However, it also meant that he should never go into a new decision without thinking or while in the wrong state of mind. It wants the caster to put himself in a good position for healthy decision making.

Next, the fourth rune, meant to show the sacrifice that must be given to achieve a solution. He cast Inguz, the rune of new beginnings. It wasn’t a good rune to have as a sacrifice. The rune deals with personal relationships and, well, new beginnings, which coupled with the sacrifice, meant that he was meant to give it up, to never possess it. Having Inguz as a sacrifice meant that he would never know love or have a truly fresh start. He felt sick thinking about it. That was at the core of anyone’s life, relationships and second chances. What did it mean if he never got them?...

He decided to move on to the last rune. The final rune was meant to show the caster what was to come in the future. He hesitated, his hand hovering over it. Should he even turn it over? He thought for a moment. He had come this far through the reading, so it would be pointless to just not turn it over. He slowly turned it so the other side was facing upwards. Jacob stared at the shard of bone. The surface had no symbol, just a bright red, glowing surface. It was blank. Odin, the rune of the unknowable. The rune was the ultimate unknown. It symbolizes a fresh start, a new beginning and a freedom from the old. The only thing was that the freedom often came at a price. A _death_ What are you doing, Jacob?” he asked in an icy and quiet voice. Jacob couldn’t speak, he just stared. After a moment of not answering the spirit took a step forward. Jacob panicked. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” he yelled, springing to his feet. 

He didn’t look back, just ran. He ran up the stairs. He ran through the house, ignoring Sandy calling to him, asking if he was alright. He ran out the door and through the streets. He ran fast and far, not stopping for anything. He ran until his lungs exploded with sharp pain every time he breathed, until his legs burned and turned numb. He ran until he reached the place he didn’t even know he had been running to. He came up to the door of the house and banged on it loudly, not caring if he was making a disturbance. “Danny!” he yelled into the afternoon air. He waited for almost a minute but no one answered, so he tried again. “DANNY!” he screamed, pounding on the door with both fists.

There was still no answer. He must be out, which meant, of course, he wasn’t there. He wasn’t where Jacob needed him to be. He needed to see Danny, needed to feel safe in his arms. He collapsed on the porch in a heap, not even caring if he looked ridiculous, and pulled out the cell phone in his pocket and dialed Danny’s number. He waited for two rings before he picked up.

“Hey, Jacob, what’s up?” he said over the line. Jacob felt himself relax a little just at hearing his voice. He had started to shake and tears were running down his face, rolling off and dripping onto the wood of the porch. He prayed that he wouldn’t sound too upset when he answered, but his voice betrayed him.

“D-Danny, where are you?” he whimpered.

“I just left to go out with friends. Are you alright?” Danny asked with an abundance of concern in his voice.

“I…no. I need to see you. Can…I need to see you.” Jacob said.

“Yeah, ok, where are you?” Danny asked with a tone that suggested that Jacob was a bomb ready to explode without warning.

“I’m outside you’re house. Just…hurry.”

“I’m on my way. Be there soon. I-” Jacob didn’t even listen to the rest and just hung up the phone, although he didn’t know why. Oh, God, Danny, hurry. He needed to be with him so badly at that moment that it hurt. He sobbed as fresh tears started running down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!


	9. Falcon Punch!

Stiles stood in the kitchen next to Derek, who was sitting reclined in one of the table chairs. He watched as the pack snacked on the cookies that he and Derek had made and fervently swatted Derek’s hands away every time he tried to pull him onto his lap. It’s not that Stiles didn’t want to sit in his lap, or anything, it’s just that it was hard enough just standing there with all the looks the pack was giving them. Erica wouldn’t stop grinning like some sort of twisted, maniacal cat, and every time Stiles pretended that it wasn’t getting to him she would snicker, knowingly. 

Scott was chatting with Allison, thank God, instead of casting disapproving glares at Derek. Allison, apparently, was back, pretending like nothing was wrong, and maybe she even believed it herself. She had tried incredibly hard to make amends with the rest of the pack and they seemed to have responded well…well, except for Erica. She _still_ held a grudge even though Boyd had forgiven Allison. It seemed to Stiles that Erica was the type of person to forgive someone only after they’ve proven themselves again and again to make up for whatever they did. In short, she was a stubborn hard-ass. But, then again, that’s what Stiles liked about her.

Jackson had his nose crinkled up ever so slightly and would sniff the air every once in a while. The faces he made would have made Stiles laugh if he wasn’t so embarrassed about what he probably smelled. He stole a glance at Derek who just smirked up at him. Asshole! Why wasn’t he freaking out like he was?! It was like he was enjoying it! Stiles rolled his eyes and let out a tiny huff which turned into a little _squee_ when Derek finally succeeded in pulling him onto his lap. Stiles didn’t miss the raised eyebrow that Lydia shot their way and he blushed a rose-pink. He tried to get up and away but the arm that was thrown around his waist was keeping him in place. After a few more seconds of struggling he finally gave up. 

The pack chatted amongst themselves, surprisingly, after that, not even caring about Derek or Stiles like he thought they would. They were eating through the cookies like they were all starving and that the sugary treats were the last food on Earth. Stiles heard a _bing_ and looked up at Jackson who was checking his phone. He gave a disapproving glare at it before he looked up at Derek.

“It looks like Danny isn’t coming.” He said. His tone sounded more hurt than annoyed, which was strange for Stiles to hear. 

“Why not?” Derek asked in his ‘controlled tone’, although it had undertones of anger. Jackson shrugged and let his fingers skip over his phone, texting Danny. They waited a few seconds in silence before they heard another bing.

“He’s meeting up with Jacob.” Jackson said. Stiles heard Erica scoff and looked over just in time to see Scott and Isaac share looks at each other. He felt Derek’s grip tighten around his waist but when he squirmed uncomfortably Derek instantly relaxed his hand. 

“Why does he keep blowing us off for Jacob?” Boyd asked.

“They’re dating, hun, why wouldn’t he?” Lydia answered, waving a hand, palm up, and rolling her eyes. 

“That doesn’t mean he can get out of pack activities.” Derek growled. That earned a laugh from Erica.

“I hardly think eating crappy cookies at Stiles’ house counts as a ‘pack activity.’” She said.

“Hey! I- er… _We_ worked really hard on those cookies!” Stiles protested. He felt a familiar rumble come from Derek’s chest as he growled at Erica. She rolled her eyes but backed down anyway.

“Hardly!” Lydia chortled, “Look, these ones are burned.” She pointed to the cookie that Jackson was currently shoving into his mouth. Derek smirked a smirk to end all smirks. Oh, God…

“We were a little…preoccupied when we were making that batch.” He said and Stiles’ face lit on fire and burned a hot cherry red. Oh, God, kill him now! Jackson’s face paled when he sniffed the air again and realization dawned on him. He made a gagging noise and pushed the half-chewed cookie out of his mouth with his tongue. 

“Oh my God! I’m gonna be sick!” Jackson said, overdramatically. 

“Please say that by ‘preoccupied’ you mean making out…” Boyd said, setting down his cookie. Derek just shrugged and shook his head. The pack made disgusted sounds and groaned after throwing the cookies back on the large plate they were placed on. Scott just looked around at everyone with a confused expression.

“What?” he asked. Stiles loved Scott like a brother, but to be honest, the guy was such a dumbass. Isaac leaned over and whispered something into his ear. After a second he finally got it and slowly set down the cookie he was holding.

“Aww, come on!” Stiles whined.

“Yeah, it’s not like we jizzed in the dough.” Derek added. Stiles just slowly closed his eyes and sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. Derek chuckled and kissed his shoulder. Funny how he thought that helped the situation.

“Riiight…” Lydia said, drawing out the word, “I’m gonna go set up in the living room.” She turned to go into the living room and the rest of the pack hurriedly followed her out of the kitchen, their gazes cast anywhere but Stiles and Derek. As soon as they were in the other room Stiles turned and hit Derek on the arm. He just laughed and gave him a pouty face. 

“Derek! What the hell?!” Stiles scolded in a loud whisper.

“What?” he asked in a tone of feigned innocence. Stiles glared at him.

“You know what! Do you have to be so… blah in front of everyone?!” Derek didn’t answer, just pulled him down into a kiss. Stiles’ mind went completely blank for a second when his lips met Derek’s, but he recovered quickly and pulled away. “Derek! What if someone sees?”

“Who the hell cares, Stiles? The pack doesn’t seem to mind, and, to be honest, I wouldn’t give a shit if they did.” He answered, trying to pull Stiles down for another kiss, but he just shimmied out of Derek’s grasp and tried to escape into the living room. Apparently, however, Derek didn’t like that, and Stiles didn’t even make it out of the kitchen before he was snatched up and pinned against the wall next to the entryway. Derek was instantly in his personal space and he couldn’t help a whimper from escaping him when Derek’s leg slid between his. 

“Derek, what the- _Mmmpf_?!” Stiles tried to protest, but was cut off when Derek shoved his tongue into his mouth. He tried to push the werewolf off him but the man was like a damned immovable boulder of muscle and hot skin! The kiss didn’t last long before Stiles felt the werewolf’s lips pull away from his mouth and move to his neck. The guy had an obsession with his neck… not that Stiles cared. Well, actually he did care in that moment! He moaned and immediately regretted it.

“Derek! We can’t do this now, the wolves can hear us!” Stiles whispered in a harsh tone. Derek’s head snapped up to look Stiles in the eyes. He slid his leg up and against Stiles groin, causing him to moan again. “Derek!” Stiles scolded, although with his lustful, breathy tone he really didn’t sound very threatening. Derek rolled his eyes and moved his head to peek out into the living room. Stiles saw his usual, mischievous smirk appear on his face.

“Oh my God… They can hear us can’t they?” Stiles asked in horror. Derek just shrugged and went back to his assault on Stiles’ neck. He tried to not make noises when Derek’s kisses turned into licks, but it was really hard not to. “Derek, _nggn_! …Please, stop…” He had to bite his lip when Derek’s teeth grazed over his skin. His hands ran up Stiles’ sides and back down again to rest on his hips, and to his surprise, Derek actually stopped, but still kept his head in the crook of Stiles’ neck. Stiles waited for a moment, half expecting Derek to start back up again, but he never did. 

“Well?...” Derek asked, breaking the silence and looking up into his eyes. Stiles’ muscles twitched at the sound of his voice and, for a moment, all he could do was gawk. He regained his composure soon enough, though.

“Well what?” he asked.

“Well, I stopped. That is what you wanted isn’t it?” Derek asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice that caused Stiles to gulp. He really didn’t want to annoy Derek. Every time he did it wound up having a bad outcome. Although, Stiles didn’t really know how he would react now that they’re technically in a relationship. Would he still be the short-fused, physical kind of guy he used to be? Stiles thought about it for a minute before deciding it didn’t matter. All he knew was that if Derek wanted anything from Stiles he sure as hell better know not to be an asshole.

“I just want to watch the movie.” Stiles said. Derek looked at him with hard eyes but they didn’t even stand a chance against Stiles’ and they soon melted into a caring gaze and Derek smiled.

“Fine,” He said, “but we’re cuddling.” Stiles tried to protest but Derek stopped him before he got the chance with a peck on the lips. “Nothing too bad, Stiles, just cuddling. All I want is to be close to you.” His voice was soft and lacked his usual ‘tough-guy’ tone. Stiles liked it when he spoke to him that way. It made him feel special and wanted… and loved. He heard gagging noises come from the living room and blushed, remembering exactly what they had been talking about not even a few seconds before. The pack could hear them…

He fought through his embarrassment, because he knew, on some level, Derek was right. Why was it such a big deal to Stiles for the pack to not see them being intimate? Maybe he was just shy… or maybe he was a coward. It didn’t really matter, though. Derek didn’t seem to mind, and as long as he had the werewolf by his side, he was pretty sure he could face anything, as corny as it sounded. Stiles snapped forward and crashed their lips together, smirking into the kiss when Derek let out a grunt of surprise. He didn’t waste any time, though, in gripping Stiles’ hips tight and pulling their bodies closer together. 

Stiles pouted when he had to break the kiss. He would have loved to continue it, but after Derek started grinding against him he knew it kind of defeated the whole purpose of what he was just saying. Instead he took Derek by the hand and led him into the living room. When they arrived, the entire pack stared at them, Erica with that same damn grin. Bitch. Correction, bitch, but he loved her anyway…but only just if she kept that up. Stiles’ heart began to pick up at being scrutinized by the pack members. Oh God, why was it so awkward for him?! He was about to have a minor freak-out, but when he felt Derek squeeze his hand, he looked back at him. He gave him a look that said ‘don’t worry’ and Stiles instantly calmed down. 

It was no big deal, right? Derek was there, and even though the pack kept giving them looks, _none of it mattered_. Derek took the lead from there, guiding them to the large leather chair that Isaac had claimed. Derek just growled and bared his fangs and, with a look of fear, Isaac scrambled out of the chair and took a seat on the ground, pouting that he was kicked out of the comfy chair. Stiles smiled and when Derek sat down, he sat next to him, the chair being large enough to almost fit both of them on the seat, and leaned against Derek’s chest as he wrapped and arm around his waist.

“What are we watching?” Stiles asked, trying his best to not sound too shaken, which he did pretty well. 

“The Last Airbender.” Scott said, getting up to press the play button on the DVD player, having never found the remote control after Stiles’ dad lost it years ago. Stiles’ features stiffened into a look of anger and horror mixed into one.

“Scott…” Stiles said, his voice cold, even if it was a little theatrical, “I hope to God you didn’t just say what I though you said. You’re my best friend, and it would be a shame to have to get Derek to rip you to pieces.” Scott’s face paled when he looked from a very serious looking Stiles and a scowling Derek who then began to growl, low and threatening. He swallowed audibly.

“Er...” Scott said with a shaky voice, ejecting the DVD and picking up another movie case, “What I meant to say was Tron: Legacy?…” His voice turned up into a half statement, half question. Stiles smiled with approval. 

“Good boy.” He said.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Jacob didn’t know how long he had been lying on the porch. He was curled into a ball, his knees brought up to his chest, and his face felt raw with dried tears. It was dark outside and he didn’t know just how much time had passed since he had gotten there. He knew it hadn’t been very long, maybe just a few minutes or so, but it felt like years. When he heard the engine and saw the lights as a car pulled up in the driveway he couldn’t even bring himself to move. He just laid there, curled in on himself.

“Jacob?!” he heard someone say after a door slam. It was Danny, finally. The teen ran up to him and fell to his knees, gently laying his hands on his arm. “Jacob, are you alright?! What happened?!” he asked in a hurried and frantic voice.

“Nothing.” He responded. That was all that Jacob could think to say.

“Nothing? Don’t give me that! Look at your feet!” Danny all but yelled and pointed at Jacob’s dirty, bloody feet, “Did you walk here barefoot?!” Jacob had to think about it for a second. He had actually ran there barefoot, having forgotten to put on shoes in his rush to get out of the house. He looked up at Danny and nodded. 

“I…” Danny said as if he were going to say something else altogether but seemed to change his mind, “Can you stand?” He tried to help Jacob to his feet but now that their condition was brought to his attention Jacob started to feel how much pain they were actually in. 

“I don’t think so.” He said. Danny just nodded and easily picked him off the ground. He spent an awkward moment fumbling with the keys to get the door open and when he finally managed he brought them inside and shut the door behind him again. 

“You’re lucky my room is on the ground floor, I don’t know if I could carry you up the stairs.” Danny said. Jacob smiled despite his mood.

“Are you saying I’m fat?” He asked, his face resting against Danny’s shoulder as he carried him. 

“God, no, Jacob!” Danny reassured with a laugh. It wasn’t a happy laugh, though. It was the kind of laugh that people give when they’re not quite sure if it’s appropriate to laugh but they don’t know what else to do. It made Jacob all the more depressed. He knew that Danny had no idea why he was so upset and he silently thanked whatever was out there that he didn’t ask questions. Danny walked them to his room and then gently laid Jacob on his bed. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Jacob nodded and sat up on the edge of the bed.

He’d been in Danny’s room many times before but for some reason, under the circumstances, it seemed like it was his first time in the place. It made him feel awkward and out of place. Jacob had taken up twiddling his thumbs, nervously, when Danny came back with a large bowl of water, some wash cloths, and an old-looking, beat-up shoe box. He made a gesture for Jacob to hand his legs over the edge and when he did Danny rolled up the bottoms of his pant legs. He let Danny lift his feet and place them in the warm water. It stung at first, Jacob guessed he put something in the water that would disinfect and help clean the cuts and scrapes, but after a moment it brought nothing but relief. 

No words were spoken while Danny took the wash cloths and very gently washed the dirt and blood from his feet, being very careful not to hurt him as he did so. Instead, a very strange atmosphere filled the air, one that fluctuated between a comfortable silence…and an extremely awkward silence. The trickle of the water, which was now a filthy, murky color, was the only sound. It was a small, timid, and quiet sound in reality, but to Jacob it was deafening. Each drop seemed to scream and shout at him about how awkward the whole situation was. He could only imagine what was going through Danny’s mind just then. Finally Jacob couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Is this weird?” he asked.

“Uuummm…” Danny said, thinking of something to say, “Yes.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No, I don’t think you’re crazy, Jacob. Why would I think that?”

“Because I ran here with no shoes and collapsed on your front porch.” Jacob was really grateful that Danny’s attention was focused on his feet because he really didn’t know if he could look Danny in the face without falling apart.

“That doesn’t make you crazy, Jacob, it just means that you’re upset about…something.” A quick caring glance up at Jacob made him feel like he could melt into a puddle. The silence came back and hung around after that while Danny dried his feet off after he was done. Jacob watched as he lifted the lid off of the shoe box. It was filled with fuzzy white socks. Danny took two of them out and slipped them onto Jacob’s feet. They were the softest socks Jacob had ever felt. It felt like he had clouds between his toes.

Danny smiled up at Jacob for another quick second that sent warm feelings shooting through Jacob before he gathered up the things he’d brought and slipped out of the room door. Jacob scooted up the bed and made himself comfortable as he waited for him to come back. It didn’t take long, and when he did return he climbed on the bed and laid to Jacob who instantly cuddled into Danny. Danny threw his arms around him and held him close.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Danny asked. Jacob thought about it. He obviously couldn’t tell him what was really wrong and how was he supposed to come up with a fitting lie? Silence wasn’t a good option either but it seemed like the most appropriate choice. He looked up at Danny with a worried face. “Is that a no?” Danny asked. Jacob nodded his head. 

“I mean…it’s not like I don’t want to tell you it’s just…I can’t.” Danny shifted and stroked Jacob’s cheek with his thumb.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?” Jacob asked. He had heard well enough, but had asked none-the-less. 

“Do you trust me?” Danny repeated.

“Yes, of course I do.” 

“You can tell me anything, Jacob. I won’t ever judge you, or think any less of you, or think you’re crazy.” The last part was spoken with a weak laugh that made Jacob smile. Danny was good at that, making him smile, even when he wasn’t trying.

“Danny…” Jacob sighed, “You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t understand.”

“I can try. I promise, there is nothing you can tell me that would be farfetched to me.” Jacob could hear the smile in his words. Somehow he doubted that ‘hey, I’m a necromancer’ was something that Danny heard every day. He doubted that he could handle hearing something like that. Then again, he was pretty sure Danny knew about the existence of werewolves, so maybe hearing about other supernatural things wouldn’t be such a shock. He thought about it some harder. Could he do it? _Should_ he do it? Could he really tell Danny? He knew Danny cared about him, a lot, but if he told him everything what was to stop him from going to the Alpha?

Danny must have gotten impatient because he spoke up again. He took Jacob’s chin in his hand and forced him to look up at him. “You can tell me, Jacob. I _promise_ I’ll still care about you just the same as I did before.” A large lump was forming in Jacob’s throat. He tried to will it away but the effort just made him start to shake a little. Jacob didn’t want to run him off but at the same time, he was tired. He was tired of feeling so alone. His necromancy was nothing to be ashamed of…well, aside from some of the things he had done lately. He supposed he would have to tell Danny about that as well. He would have to tell him _everything_. But was it really worth it?

He didn’t want to feel so alone anymore, especially since he didn’t know what was happening with his grandpa’s spirit and with the corruption in his soul. He needed someone to help him, to understand, or at least try to. Danny had offered and…Jacob had decided.

“All right then,” he said, “I’ll tell you.”

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Raven walked along the sidewalk of the neighborhood. A slight breeze caught her long, black hair and tossed it around in gentle waves. She had been in that neighborhood before, when she had been watching the hyperactive one called ‘Stiles’. She would be lying if she said she didn’t like the teen, even though he was supposed to be the ‘enemy’. He reminded her of some of her family back in the Black Hills. She felt her chest tighten a little at the thought. It had been five years since she chose to leave the Unkindness of the Ravens, time that she would never get back. Raven wondered what her family and friends were up to, what they had done over those years. It had been so long…

Dull noises flopped out into the night air as her rubber-soled shoes padded against the concrete. She was curious as to where Falcon had gone. It had been four days since he went on his hunt for Stiles and he still had yet to come back with anything. Raven knew that he wouldn’t succeed. She tried to tell the other Tengu, the Hale pack wasn’t going to go down so easily. Great Horn seemed to think that after they took out the Roteaugen pack they could do the same to any other pack. He was an idiot. She had seen first-hand what the Hale pack could do. 

The Roteaugen pack may have been organized and ruthless while the Hale pack was disorganized and were constantly fighting each other, but the Hale pack’s dynamic of the ‘dysfunctional yet functional’ family always seemed to work in their favor. Each pack member brought something special to the mix, making the pack diverse and unpredictable instead of rigid and oh so unoriginal. In fact, one member in particular played a very important role in the pack, a role that, if removed, could make the whole pack come crumbling down. That pack mate was, of course, the spazzy one, Stiles.

Raven had been watching the Hale pack for quite a while. She had seen the role Stiles took. It was funny how everyone seemed to overlook it, though, even the teen himself. No one truly realized just how important he was. Not to mention that he had a deep connection to the Alpha of the pack. Or rather, the Alpha had a deep connection to him. It seemed like the Alpha had gone and found himself a mate in the unsuspecting teen. She scoffed as she saw a figure in the distance, perched in the branches of a tree overlooking Stile’s house. Well, she was right, Falcon was there. 

She half-jugged up to the base of the tree and just stood there, not even bothering to acknowledge Falcon’s presence. He seemed content to do the same. It also seemed to Raven that Stiles wasn’t even aware of just how much he meant to Derek. She knew for a fact via expert espionage that Derek had told Stiles what he meant to him…or at least tried to. The Alpha wasn’t very good at verbalizing his emotions she noticed. Regardless, Stiles didn’t really show any opposition to his affection. No, he seemed to even welcome it. No matter what happened between the two factions of the Tengu and the Hale pack, it would be interesting to see how it all played out.

Raven jumped and let out a small gasp when Falcon jumped down from the tree right in front of her. She regained her composure very quickly, though, and the cocoa-skinned Frenchman turned to face her. “What are you doing here, Raven?” he asked. Raven always found it so taxing to have to try and figure out what he was saying through his accent. It wasn’t too heavy, but it was just heavy enough to annoy her.

“Seeing what’s taking you so long.” She answered. Falcon scoffed and curled up his lip.

“I am on the hunt _vous imbécile_ , what do you think is taking so long?!” he shot back. She didn’t like his tone. Raven never understood the other Tengu’s incessant need to try and prove themselves each other’s betters. If one was truly better than the other, they should show it deeds and not through empty words. 

“And how is that going, Falcon? It’s been four days, and what, still no catch?” she said, her tone mocking and laced with venom. Falcon just scowled at her. She smiled in her small victory before taking pity on the poor soul. She never was very good at watching others suffer or fail, even if they deserved it. “Do you need help?” she asked with sincerity.

“I don’t need help from the likes of you!” Falcon resisted.

“Oh no, then what are you doing out here?”

“The stupid boy never leaves the house, and when he does he’s always accompanied by almost the entire pack!” he huffed out in anger. A moment of silence crept by before he spoke again. “It is impossible to get to him with so many people guarding him!”

“It sounds like you could use a distraction.” Raven stated. Falcon raised an eyebrow.

“I suppose I could…” he said, trailing off as if he was pondering the situation. To say Raven was surprised would be an understatement.

“What, so quick to change your tone? I thought you didn’t need help?”

“I don’t need help,” he said, “ but that that doesn’t mean I couldn’t use it.” He smirked at his own clever words.

“Alright then, what did you have in mind?”

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Derek couldn’t help but let his hands wander over Stiles body while they watched…er… whatever it was they were watching at that moment. They had already finished two movies and, to be honest, Derek was far too distracted by the teen curled up in his arms to even care about anything else. Stiles had his head resting against his chest, his eyes half-open and drooping. He looked tired, but then again so did the rest of the pack. It was already eleven thirty-eight at night and most, if not all of the pack had fallen asleep after they descended on the pizza they had ordered like locusts.

He didn’t care, though, because the only thing that mattered was that Stiles seemed to be trying to force himself to stay awake to finish the movie. It was so adorable to see his head nod and fall and then shake himself back into consciousness only for it to repeat again. Oh God, he did not just admit to having feeling of adorableness… Actually, he did admit it, because when it came to Stiles, everything Derek thought he knew about himself went flying out the window. Stiles even tried digging his fingers into Derek’s shoulder a couple of times, as if he could use him as a physical life-line to keep him from falling asleep. It was so futile, though, and all it did was make Derek smile. He watched as Stiles’ head nodded again and his eyes fluttered closed. That time, it seemed, was the breaking point, as Stiles didn’t shake himself awake again. Instead he let sleep overtake him and Derek listened as his heart started to even out as he slept. He couldn’t help himself, not that he would have tried to stop it, from leaning down and kissing Stiles on the forehead.

He nuzzled his cheek on the top of his head, loving the feeling of his newly grown-out hair. It was possibly the one of the softest things Derek had ever felt, and the chocolate smell that was trapped in his messy locks was enough to drive him to the point of insanity. He inhaled, deeply and slowly, relishing the scent like a connoisseur would relish wine. He let his hands idly stroke up and down Stiles’ sides for a moment before he rested his palm over his ribcage. Derek liked to feel Stiles’ lungs fill up with air as he breathed. As strange as it was, it made him feel closer to the teen. Like maybe listening to his heart beat and feeling him breath would somehow impossibly bind them together in some way. 

He looked up, prying his eyes away from Stiles’ perfect, innocent face as he was deep in sleep to look over at the rest of the pack. They all were asleep too. Scott sat against the couch and Allison had her head rested in his lap. Erica was curled up into Boyd’s side with Isaac sprawled out over Boyd’s feet on the ground. Lydia and Jackson were, of course, laid out in the perfect position on the opposite chair, cuddling each other. Jackson’s chin rested on her head and she laid her head and hand against him. Derek couldn’t help the feeling of what could only be described as pure happiness overtake him. 

It had been so long since he had felt like a true pack. Seeing the pack, _his_ pack, sleeping together…well it brought back memories of his family. He felt an odd feeling of a happy sort of sadness when he thought about them. He loved his family, his old pack, so much, but he had a new pack now. He had people to protect…and people to love. Derek brought his attention back to Stiles when he made a snorting noise and muttered something about evil demon kittens, but his head just flopped back a little and he was soon sleeping soundly again. 

Derek sat there cuddling Stiles for about fifteen minutes, listening for the Sheriff’s car, when he heard something else. It was a hum. It sounded like someone humming a tune of a song, and it sounded close…too close. He was instantly on defense. It was most likely just someone walking by the house on their way to God knows where, but he was still a little wary. He tightened his grip around Stiles and listened. After a while the humming faded for a full minute before he heard someone start to sing instead. It was so close, too close then for someone to just have been walking by.

Derek’s eyes flashed red when he heard something scrape against the side of the house. It sounded like someone was dragging a knife along the side. His eyes flicked over to Scott and Jackson when their heart beats started to pick up. They looked to him, unsure of what was happening, both of them absentmindedly moving to protect their girlfriends just like Derek was trying to protect Stiles. He saw their eyes flash yellow when he heard a voice come from outside. 

“Here doggy, doggy!” a woman said. She singsonged it like a lunatic and Derek thought that she and his uncle would get along nicely before he forced himself back into the seriousness of the situation. The other wolves were waking up, already sharp, alert, and ready to attack. The humans of the pack were also blearily sitting up, woken from the stirrings of the others.

“What’s going on?” Stiles asked with a yawn. Derek looked down at him, and, as if something deep inside of him activated at seeing his face, he went into full-on protection mode. He got up quickly from the chair, maneuvering so that Stiles wasn’t too jarred and went for the door. “Wait here.” He told the pack without even turning around. He stopped at the door and peered out the window. A woman stood out in the yard, looking through the bushes. He couldn’t really see her face because waves of long, black hair were covering it. She was tall yet thin, even more petite than Lydia surprisingly.

“Snuggles, here doggy!” she singsonged again. She appeared to be looking for something and Derek could only assume it was this…Snuggles. He heard the others creeping up behind him and he turned to glare at them. Why did no one ever listen to him? They didn’t seem to care about his threatening looks, however, and were all stealing glances out through the window.

“Who is that?” Lydia asked with curiosity and her ever present air of superiority. 

“How should I know?” Derek grumbled. 

“What should we do?” Isaac asked.

“Stay here, I’m going to see what she wants.” Stiles said, walking towards the door. Derek blocked him with his arm and gripped his shoulder.

“I don’t think so Stiles, I’ll go.” He said. Stiles must be crazy if he thought he’d let him go out there at nearly midnight to see what some crazy-sounding woman was doing in his yard.

“Derek, it’s _my_ house. And besides, I’m perfectly capable of holding my own if she turns out to be a crazy.

“You’re _my_ boyfriend, Stiles…er, and pack. It’s my _job_ to protect you. And no, you’re not capable of handling yourself. _I’ll_ go.” Derek went to open the door and walk out but when he did Stiles just brushed past him and out onto the lawn. “Stiles, damnit!” Derek scolded, running out after him.

“Um, can I help you?” Stiles asked as Derek came up behind him. He gripped his shoulders as if trying to preventing him from moving. He knew that dragging him back to the house wouldn’t only look strange to whoever that lady was, but would also be damn near impossible with how stubborn Stiles was. They woman straightened and looked up at them. Derek was caught off guard by just how beautiful she was. Her caramel skin was flawless and her face was young and soft and kind. She stared at them with honey-brown eyes that rivaled Stiles’ before she answered.

“I lost my dog, Snuggles.” She said. The way she sounded…something was off about her. 

“What makes you think it’s here?” Derek asked in a harsh voice. She cocked her head a little and pinched her eyebrows together as if trying to figure him out. Stiles elbowed him in the ribs.

“Derek, don’t be rude.” He said before turning his attention back to the woman. “Did you see it out around here?” he asked. She nodded.

“Yes, I saw him poking around your bushes. I think he’s still somewhere around here.” The way she had sounded before, like she was a little off, it broke while she was speaking. It sounded like someone accidentally breaking an accent they were trying to speak in. That made Derek all the more suspicious. She was either acting, or really was just crazy in bits and pieces. Neither of the options sat well with Derek, especially when said crazy was so close to Stiles. She took a few steps forward while she was talking. The distance wasn’t anything out of social norms, but Derek had to bite back a growl regardless.

“What does he look like?” Stiles asked hesitantly. Derek thought he must have been feeling a weird vibe from her too.

“Oh, you know, he’s big, black, with cute pointy ears… and red eyes.” She smirked at saying the last part and all the crazy was back in her voice. Derek pulled Stiles closer to him, protectively. 

“Right…” Stiles said, drawing out the word, “Who are you exactly?” he asked suspiciously. She smiled and put out her hand.

“My name is Raven.” She said. Stiles just let her hand hang out in the air until she dropped it, awkwardly. Derek did growl that time, taking a few steps back and pulling a willing Stiles with him. They backed up to the concrete in from of the door and the pack poured out of the house, surrounding them and looking threating at Raven. She just stood there, her smile long since faded and replaced with a look of…sadness? Derek took his eyes off her for just a second to look at the side of the house. Five long marks ran alongside the house. They looked like claw marks, or… 

Derek paled. They were talon marks. “Stiles?” he asked very softly, “Where is the phurbu?”

“Upstairs on my desk.” Stiles responded. Derek looked to Erica who got what he wanted right away and, with a nod, ran into the house and up the stairs. Derek saw Raven’s gaze shift upward to the roof of the house. “Stiles, go inside.” Derek said, pushing him toward the door.

“What? Why?!” he said, trying to dig his heels into the ground and stop Derek from pushing him but he just picked him up and plopped him across the threshold. Derek didn’t have time to answer before he heard a commotion behind him. He turned around just in time to Boyd get throw across the lawn. Derek looked up towards the roof. There was a Tengu, a very, very _large_ Tengu perched on the edge, looking down at the pack. It hung over the edge a little, almost like a bat. “Stiles, go!” Derek said, but Stiles had already shrunk back at seeing the large black, white and gold feathered werecreature.

The other humans of the pack ran inside as the betas wolfed out, Erica joining them with the phurbu. The large Tengu shrieked at them and leaped from the roof and took to the skies. Derek watched as Raven just stood there. He expected her to make a move, but she didn’t. She just…watched. Derek looked back up to find that he had lost the Tengu. By the looks of the others, they didn’t know where it went either.

“Where did it go?!” Scott asked with a little fear in his voice. A tenses moment hung in the air but was broken when a brown, blurry streak and a gust of wind tore through the group and Scott just disappeared. “Scott!” Derek yelled. The damn Tengu moved so fast and it was almost impossible to see in the night sky. After a moment Scott simply fell from the sky, landing on the lawn with a loud thud, making a large and very evident crater. He didn’t move and Derek ran to him with the other betas.

“Scott?!” he heard Allison scream. She ran out onto the lawn and knelt down next to him. Derek looked back up into the skies, looking for the Tengu with the others. “Scott, oh my God, Scott!” Allison yelled at him, panicking and shaking his shoulders. Derek was relieved when he heard Scott speak, his voice weak and he sounded out of breath. “Ooowwww…” he moaned. 

“Boyd, Isaac, take Scott. Erica, give me the phurbu and then all of you get inside!” Derek commanded. Erica handed him the phurbu but still took the time to protest.

“Are you crazy, Derek, we can’t leave you out here alone!” she said.

“Erica, just do it! Go, now!” he shot back. Isaac and Boyd picked up Scott and they all hesitated for a moment, well, except for Jackson, who was already headed for the house. They all followed him soon enough, though, and left Derek out there alone. Derek turned his attention back to Raven when she spoke. He had almost forgotten she was there.

“Falcons can reach speeds of up to two hundred miles per hour while diving for prey.” She said, “I doubt you’ll be able to resist.” She sounded like she actually cared, like she was…concerned. Derek had a hard time pegging just what she was all about, but he didn’t really have time to think more about her before he was ripped off the ground and brought up into the air. Large, hooked talons sank into his chest, gripping him while in flight. Derek watched as the ground got further away as they ascended and he had to do something fast or he was never going to survive the fall. 

He took the phurbu in hand and slashed up into the white, feathery underside of the Tengu’s wing. It shrieked in pain and the red, glowing wound spat out blood as the wing folded involuntarily. They both were sent plummeting to the ground, Derek taking the time to free himself from the grip of the Tengu. The ground rushed towards them and he braced himself as he made contact with the lawn, making another, deeper crater. The earth even cracked as he hit the ground, making small fissures in the lawn. 

His back had pain shoot through it and he could barely move, but when he saw the large bird-creature falling toward him he somehow found the strength to roll out of the way. The Tengu hit the ground with greater force than he did, cracking the ground even more. Falcon didn’t take any time to recover, however, and sprang back to its feet. Derek struggled to get up and watched as the Tengu flapped its wing. It made pained noises at the action. Good, Derek had crippled it from flying. At least he won’t have to worry about any unexpected trips into the sky.

The Tengu was mad and it cawed at him, coming towards him with its talons ready to strike. Derek was still recovering and, even though he tried, he couldn’t dodge out of the way. The Tengu’s talons tore at his chest. He moved just enough so that the gashes weren’t very deep, but they were still pretty bad. He fell to the ground, looking up as Falcon raised its arm up to seemingly finish the job. He felt pathetic in that moment. The fall shouldn’t have incapacitated him that much and he should have never been put down that fast. He was useless. If he were to die in that moment, who would protect Stiles and the pack?!

Falcon’s arm started to swing down and Derek knew he was about to die but, then, seemingly out of nowhere Stiles was there. He had picked up the phurbu and positioned himself between Falcon and Derek. “Stiles, no!” Derek screamed in a panic. Stiles didn’t even flinch when Falcon’s talons came down on him. Instead he slashed up with the phurbu. Derek heard the Tengu shriek. Stiles had cut off two of its fingers which had fallen to the ground in a bloody puddle. Falcon recoiled for a moment, but Stiles didn’t give him a chance and leaped forward, driving the phurbu into the creature’s gut.

Nothing happened for a moment. Stiles and Falcon just stood there, paralyzed, with the phurbu still in its abdomen. Derek watched as the wings on the Tengu’s back receded and its form shrank down. The feathers looked like they were dissolving away as the Tengu changed back into human form. Stiles lurched back as the Tengu became a cocoa-skinned man…completely in the nude. He grasped at his stomach and looked at Stiles like he was the devil himself. The other pack members had ran out onto the lawn and surrounded Derek and Stiles, watching as the man just took some very clumsy steps back and then turned and ran into the trees across the road.

“Well.” Everyone jumped at hearing Raven’s voice. “It seems Eagle was right. Surprising that an Alpha wasn’t more of a fight, though. Not much like a wolf and more like a… _wani yanpi_.” She took the time to make a small, forced laugh. The others watched her as she turned her back on them and started walking across the street. “Goodnight!” She called over her shoulder. With that, she disappeared into the same trees that Falcon escaped into. The pack stood stunned on the lawn for a while but Stiles was already down next to Derek, poking at his gashes.

“Ow, Stiles, Jesus!” Derek hissed, swatting away his hands. He looked up at Stiles whose eyes were welled up with tears waiting to be spilled. The look on his face was one of worry and concern. Derek sighed and pulled him into a loose hug, careful not to irritate his wounds. It didn’t matter though, they were already healing. As an Alpha, it wouldn’t take him nearly as long to heal as it had taken Isaac.

“Are you alright?” Stiles sobbed into his shoulder. 

“Relax, Stiles I’m fine.” Derek cooed. He rubbed his back and tried to sooth him as he cried. In reality Derek was in a tremendous amount of pain, but at least Stiles was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you find and translate the three phrases that were in different languages? Anyone who can gets a cookie! :D If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!


	10. Stirrings

“Derek, I’m telling you, it’s on the other side!” Stiles groaned, pulling at Derek’s shirt. The werewolf looked up at him with an annoyed look that would probably make any lesser man wet himself, but Stiles was no lesser man! Derek had his hand slipped in between the cushion and the arm of his dad’s reclining chair, fishing around for Stiles’ phone. They had fallen asleep on the chair while watching a movie and Stiles’ phone had slid out of his pocket and fallen somewhere inside of the crude, mechanical monstrosity.

“Stiles,” Derek said pointedly, grinding his teeth in annoyance, “I have heightened hearing, I think I’d know which side it’s on!” Stiles could tell he was trying not to lose his temper. “Oh my God! You’re impossible!” Stiles snatched Derek’s phone from the coffee table and dialed his own number again. He let his heart flutter when he saw his contact name was Fuzzy Head, but he soon remembered that Derek was being a dick! After a second or two his phone started ringing. Derek cocked his head to the side and Stiles saw his ears twitch as he listened. Stiles thought, for brief moment, that it wasn’t fair that the Universe packed so much perfection and cuteness into one man, but, then again, Derek was his, so maybe he should be grateful instead.

Derek eyed him when the phone stopped ringing and Stiles eyed him right back. Stiles smiled, knowing what was coming. Derek took in a steadying breath, closing his eyes for a moment, before he pulled his hand out and switched it to the other side. He mumbled something that Stiles thought might have been an insult, but he was too busy blatantly laughing at him. He sat on the coffee table, fiddling with his thumbs in boredom and watched as Derek fished around inside the chair. He let his mind wander into naughty places, thinking about how nice it would be to be that chair, but soon, even that was boring him. He dialed his number again and the phone ringed. That time it sounded like it was coming from the other side again. Derek growled in frustration and glared at Stiles.

“Don’t give me that look, Derek! You must have made it shift to the other side again with all your fishing.”

“Or it was on the other side to begin with!” Derek snarled. Stiles threw his hands up in frustration. Damn chairs and damn werewolves!

“Call it again.” Derek ordered. Stiles just threw the phone at his forehead and Derek made a squeaky whine when it hit him, and he scowled and rubbed his head. He almost felt bad, but he was too prideful for that. “Fine!” Derek scrolled through the contacts again and dialed Fuzzy Head. Stiles was quickly becoming annoyed with Kids of ‘88 after hearing ‘Just a Little Bit’ play for the millionth fucking time from his phone! Judging from the deepening growl coming off Derek, he was too. Stiles flinched when the chair was flipped up, rather roughly, and Derek was frantically searching for the phone from the underside.

The damn chair had so many folds of leather that it was impossible to tell where the phone was! It was a new kind of torture that Stiles wasn’t sure they could survive, especially not with Derek’s temper. “Hey,” Stiles warned, “be careful with the chair.” When he took Derek’s phone _again_ and dialed his number, something must have snapped in the werewolf. Stiles’ eyes widened when he saw his claws slowly extend. “Derek…” Stiles said very carefully, “Think about what you’re doing…” He put his hands, palms out, in front of him, like he was trying to sooth a wild animal. Actually, when he thought about it, he kind of was. It was futile, though, and on some level, Stiles knew that. Derek just shot him a smirk and, without a moment’s pause, viciously tore into the leather of the chair. “Derek, stop!” Stiles yelled over the sound of the ripping leather. He would have tried to pull Derek off the chair, but he knew it would be useless.

Within a matter of seconds, the underside of the chair was shredded. Bits and strips of leather fluttered down to the ground after being tossed into the air and Derek sat amidst the carnage with a pleased smile on his face, Stiles’ phone in hand. “How the hell am I supposed to explain this to my dad?! It was hard enough explaining the lawn craters!” Stiles griped with his hands on his head. His face was pale. That was his father’s favorite chair! God, he was going to get in so much trouble!

Derek went to sit next to Stiles on the coffee table and handed him his phone. Stiles glared, but took his phone anyway. He was about to say something, scolding Derek for his misdeeds, but lost his train of thought when Derek pulled him into a kiss. He wrapped one of his hands gently on the back of Stiles’ neck while the other moved up to cup his check. His hands were hot and they felt like heaven itself against his skin. Derek pulled away with a wet sort of squelching sound, and looked into Stiles’ eyes. “I’m sorry.” He said in a tone of voice that made Stiles’ spine tingle. Damn him!

Stiles rolled his eyes, but still smiled, and moved over to flip the chair right-side-up again. He looked at it, the damage nearly unnoticeable, hidden underneath. “Well…I guess you can’t really tell…” Derek smiled up at him, almost like he thought he’d won! That asshole! That just made Stiles narrow his eyes at him. “But you’re cleaning this mess up!” he said, trying one last time to assert his dominance in the non-fight. Derek laughed at him and just sprang up and tackled him to the floor. He moved over Stiles and pinned him to the floor with his body weight while he was still in shock.

Stiles blinked up at his smirking face, still trying to register what had happened. “Hey!” he protested—although not really protesting—when he finally snapped to it. Derek already had his face buried in the crook of his neck, sniffing like some kind of crazy person, and had moved his leg between Stiles’. His nose tickled the sensitive skin of Stiles neck and he giggled, not even bothering to try and stop himself. He had become used to Derek’s affections, well most of them… It was nice to have him touch him and snuggle him… among other things. They still hadn’t gone further than a little touching, rubbing, and…stroking, but that seemed to satisfy Derek. For now… Even still, Stiles was quickly becoming more comfortable to being in a relationship with Derek and all the things that that brought with it.

“Um, are we interrupting something?” Stiles jumped at the sound of Lydia’s voice, honestly startled close to the point of death. He felt a familiar grumbling in Derek’s chest when he growled at her and he blushed when he looked up. The entire pack was standing in a sloppily formed semi-circle, staring down at them with impish grins on their faces. Damn, Scott, he must have let them in! Stiles knew that he had promised himself not to be embarrassed about situations like that, but he couldn’t help himself from burying his face in Derek’s chest and hiding under his body as a hot blush invaded his features. The vibrations from Derek speaking, or rather growling out words, tickled his nose. “Yes, you are!”

Lydia, who seemed to be more than willing to slash through the awkwardness and take control of the situation, just huffed and rolled her eyes. “Well too bad.” She said with little empathy, it seemed, for their feelings, “It’s pack time, now get up.” She stepped over the two with a kind of grace that only she could possess, and the rest followed, claiming their spots on the couches and chairs. They all learned to leave Stiles and Derek the large fluffy, leather chair after Isaac had a few unfortunate, erm…accidents that involved Derek’s strength and the hard floor. Although, Stiles wondered if the old thing would even retain its legendary comfyness, let alone work, after Derek slashed it up.

Stiles fought the urge to whine when the comforting weight of Derek’s body lifted off of him, but it was soon remedied by Derek picking him up and plopping them down in the broken chair. Well, it was still soft and plushy, so that was good. Stiles snuggled into Derek’s side, a little disappointed that they were robbed of what might have been a very satisfying experience. Ok, maybe he was a lot disappointed. It didn’t matter, though, because Stiles had recently taken up studying Derek’s face. He liked to try to gauge how he was feeling, which was quite the challenge, given that Derek rarely showed any emotion except grumpiness. Well, when he was in public anyway. He had learned, however, through his oh-so-enthralling studies, that Derek was happiest when he was with Stiles and the pack. 

He could see it in the way the corners of his eyes turned up when he was fighting off a smile. In the way he almost purred when stories were being shared and laughter filled the air. He could see it in the way he held himself, like he wasn’t as tense or so afraid to just let himself be comfortable. But most of all, he could see it in his eyes, every time they would lock gazes. It was a sort of sparkle that twinkled down deep, a sparkle that Stiles liked to think only he could see. It was odd to think of anything having to do with Derek as ‘sparkling’, but there it was. So, instead of moping about missing out on some sexy-times, he just let it go, because he wanted nothing more than to see Derek happy.

“Right,” Scott said, interrupting Stiles’ thoughts with a clap of his hands, “who wants to watch The Matrix?”

//Oo,..,oO\\\

“Get away from me!” Falcon protested, weakly trying to shove Raven’s busy hands away from his body. Raven tried to breathe evenly and not get grossed out when the stubs of his newly-forming fingers touched the skin of her arm. She scooted a little further away from him where he was on his bed, but not for his benefit, just out of disgust. He had been trying to shove her away for the better part of ten minutes, and, to be honest, it was starting to grate at her nerves. Everyone was so standoffish in the War Party. They never let her help, even when they were injured like Falcon. He tried another lame shove, barely managing to nudge Raven in his weakened state, and she just continued working in silence, a hard scowl plastered across her face.

“Didn’t you hear me, _Passerine_? I said get away from me!” Raven clenched her teeth at the name. Under any normal circumstances, being called Passerine wouldn’t offend her. After all, that was what she was. But the way he said it, there was venom in his words. He slanted them just so they would sting. He thought himself so perfect, being a Prey-Bird like the others. As if they had some kind of higher right to be just by their birth! Raven scoffed at the thought. So what if her fingers curled and ‘accidentally’ dug into the phurbu wound in his gut? She would never admit to doing it purposefully, or to enjoying the shriek of pain it pulled from the Frenchman.

Falcon was still weak, so much so that the gasp and wild flailing he did was enough to tire him out for Raven to actually finish changing his bandages in silence. It didn’t stop him from assaulting her with a glare that could curdle milk, however, but she didn’t mind, as long as he wasn’t attacking her with words. She had gotten used to the War Party’s hate toward her over the years. She had been shunned for times, blamed for things she didn’t do, verbally abused, _physically_ abused. 

Any one thing could be considered minor, but when she had to live with it nonstop for five years…they grew. The little things became bigger things, the bigger thing became the worst things. A name would become a curse, and that curse would be hers to bear. Eventually she had gotten used to it, even come to expect it. She had gotten used to being torn down, to being the punching bag. Yes, she had gotten used to their cold and hostile attitudes…but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Her resolve was wearing thin, and she could feel it, the proverbial ‘snap’ coming on. She knew that one day, very soon, she wouldn’t be able to take anymore. She knew, she just didn’t know when. Until then, however, she had to wait. She still needed the War Party for protection. Things get a little hairy after you traipse across the country killing innocents. People tend to hold grudges… 

Raven quickly packed the things back into the first aid kit and snapped the lid shut. Falcon was still glaring and she met his eyes and held his gaze for a moment before she had to look away. She saw such anger and hate and disgust in his eyes, all directed toward her. It was sad, really, the way the Prey-Bird’s prejudices frothed out of nowhere. A moment of silence stuck in the air before she spoke. “You know you’d be dead if it wasn’t for me.” She heard a scoff erupt from his lips and looked back just in time to catch a particularly nasty sneer.

“I could have managed on my own.” Falcon responded, stubbornly. Raven stood from the chair beside his bed and looked down at him, her face blank and unreadable. 

“You were passed out when I found you in the woods. You know the others wouldn’t have helped you. I _carried_ you back! I spent _four days_ keeping you from slipping off the edge!” Her voice began almost as a whisper but grew louder as she spoke. 

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

“You did!” Raven rebutted, jabbing a finger in his face, “You asked for help, we made a plan, and then you _fucked_ it all up, didn’t you?!” Falcon looked stricken and shocked at her tone, as if someone had just slapped him in the face with a wet fish. Raven continued, “All you were supposed to do was grab the boy, but you didn’t! Why?! You could have taken him as soon as he stepped outside. That was the plan!”

“His mate followed him! Trying to separate them on a dive could have killed the human!” Raven opened her mouth to shout back, but she snapped it shut to prevent something stupid from coming out. She knew he was right. There was a very good chance that he could have accidentally killed the boy. She huffed and turned her back on him. She could have stayed there and argued for the sake of arguing, pressured under his bigoted glare, but she knew he was right, so they were done. The door was slammed a little too hard as she left his room and angrily stomped down the hallway. 

She followed the long path as it led her down towards her room. She passed hunters and their sleeping quarters on her way, but, after seeing the scowl on her face, they side-stepped her in fear. A few even scuttled away, not even bothering to hide the fact that they were pathetic worms. Raven shook her head. No, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t think like _them_. They were just people and they didn’t deserve to live in fear. She knows how it feels… Her feet came to a halt in front of an open door when she heard her name. 

“Raven…” a voice said in a calm, chilling, almost seductive tone, “Come here.” Raven recognized the voice. Osprey. What she said, she didn’t even try to hide it as a command. Raven debated whether or not she should just turn and leave to spite her, but after a faltering moment, she hesitantly stepped into the doorframe. Osprey sat in her room. It was lit with candles, casting long, dancing shadows, and had various Japanese artifacts placed around the room and hanging on the walls. Osprey was sitting on an ornately embroidered cushion with her back turned to raven. Her posture was perfectly erect, the kimono she wore falling gracefully over her body, almost like it was painted on. Raven heard a smooth, metallic scraping sound and saw Osprey glide her arms smoothly forward and then bring them back again. Whatever she was doing, Raven couldn’t see.

“I said come in, not loiter.” Osprey snapped, somehow still managing to make her voice seem even and graceful. Raven hesitated again. She had already acknowledged that she was listening and had come that far, she might as well just bite the bullet. She slowly crept her way inside, pinning her arms to her sides and watching her step. She knows first-hand how vicious the Prey-Bird could get when the order of her room was disturbed. A soft _pluf_ sounded into the silence as Raven plopped down on the cushion next to Osprey, as well as another long scrape. 

Now that Raven was sitting next to her, she could see what she was doing. She held a blade in her hand, the long curved blade of a katana. She held it with her right hand, carefully gripping it with a cloth to avoid being cut, while her left hand rested over the blade and gently guided it over a whetstone secured in a wooden clamp on a small table. She slid the blade across it with another milky, metallic _scrape_. Raven flinched when she heard Osprey click her teeth. “So clumsy. You are not a bag of rice to be thrown to the ground, you are a woman!” Raven rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t come here to be insulted. What do you want?” Osprey clenched her jaw and a tense moment rolled by before she continued sharpening her blade. _Scrape!_  
“You still tend to him.” She said, stating it as a matter of fact and offering no further explanation. It didn’t matter, though. Raven knew what she talking about. 

“Yes, I do.” … _Scrape!_ The glisten of the oiled blade caught her eye as Osprey slid it across the whetstone. She let her gaze linger over the sheen, entranced by its glistening beauty.

“Why?” Raven snapped back up to Osprey when she spoke.

“He needs help. No one else seems to care, so I do.” She answered.

“He failed. You should have let him die in the forest like the worthless worm he is.” Raven ground her teeth.

“I can’t do that.” 

“And why not?” … _Scrape!_

“I can’t just let someone die when I know I can help them!” 

“And why not? Falcon was never kind to you, you owe him nothing.”

“I don’t do it for him, I do it for myself.” Osprey paused for a moment, still not managing to even glance at Raven the entire time.

“I see…” … _Scrape!_ They sat in silence after that. Raven watched as Osprey continued to sharpen her blade, her focus unwavering and precise. After a few minutes, Osprey picked the blade up and inspected the edge. Raven noted the fine grooves that marked the blade where it had grinded against the whetstone. They were even and elegant on the silver metal. Osprey rose to her feet, gliding up using the power of her legs to form a graceful illusion, as opposed to Raven who fumbled onto her hands and forcefully pushed herself up. The Prey-Bird walked over to another table where the hilt of the katana sat. After she secured the blade back on and tested its hold, she sauntered over to a wooden dummy sitting by the far wall. Raven stood next to her.

“Do you know, Raven,” Osprey said after a long moment, “why we operate the way we do?” Raven didn’t answer, just kept looking at her expectantly. “Because,” she continued, “when you attack the weak points,” she slashed the wooden dummy, the blade moving so fast it was just a flash of silver light, “of a larger foe,” another slash, “it seems harmless,” two slashes, “ like just an annoyance.” Three slashes. She continued, “But when your attacks strike with that amount of precision,” another slash, “every annoyance has a purpose that helps topple the greater threat.” She let loose a flurry of blindingly fast slashes, the sleeves of her kimono ruffling in the wake of her movements like a ribbon in the wind. Suddenly, she stilled, and stayed her blade. 

The dummy was covered in thin cuts and tiny nicks. It looked like someone had attacked it with a sword, yes, but apart from that, it still held. Raven failed to see what Osprey was on about until she brought the hilt of the katana up to the wood and gently knocked it. The dummy let out a strange groan before splitting into pieces and falling apart, chunks toppling to the ground. Raven snapped her jaw shut, not even realizing her mouth was hanging open, when Osprey spoke again. “You see, when you attack the weak points, and you have the proper tools,” she elegantly brought the blade up to glisten in the light, “you can bring down any enemy.” Raven stood in silence for a moment. 

“What are you saying?”

“I am saying, I understand the importance of caring for and maintaining the weapon, but if it cannot fulfill its duty, it has no purpose.” Raven ground her teeth. She knew exactly what she was suggesting, but she wouldn’t stop caring for Falcon, not so long as he needed to be cared for. She couldn’t just abandon someone in need. She couldn’t… Osprey studied her face, finally looking up at her. It was brief, however, as she sharply uttered, “Leave now.” with a wave of her hand, and turned her back to Raven. Raven didn’t hesitate that time. Instead, she turned and quickly exited and returned to her room.

//Oo,..,oO\\\

Jacob shifted his peas around his tray with the flimsy, plastic spork, his gaze fixed intently on the tiny green spheres. He sat at a table against the far wall of the cafeteria with Danny, away from the others. He missed them, the rest of the pack. He knew that he really didn’t have a place with them, that really his only connection was Danny, but he still missed them. It was interesting to listen to their conversations when they talked, and comforting to be close to laughter. If he tried, Jacob could even fool himself into thinking he actually had friends. Real friends. But that was all a memory now, stolen in just a few short days.

After he had told Danny about his…practices in Necromancy—what he had been doing, what he had been planning—Danny freaked out. “We can’t let them find out!” He had told him. Jacob didn’t like how the new information changed the way he acted around him. He went from sweet and care-free to paranoid and spastic. Jacob thought that Danny might still care a little for him if he was still with him. He must care if the way he tried to block Jacob away from everyone for his own ‘protection’ was any indicator. Jacob still didn’t like it. He wished he could just take it all back, that he could just keep his secret, but at the same time, he didn’t. Regardless of Danny’s reaction, he was glad to have someone to share it with, glad to have someone who cared for him enough to stay.

When school was over, Danny ushered him away from the crowd and drove them to Jacob’s house. He had been surprised to learn that Jacob was an orphan—a fact that was just one part in the massive confession a few days earlier—but still, he stayed. Jacob hadn’t spoken to his foster mother much since that night and she often threw him looks, an odd mixture between worried, annoyed, and uneasy. Most times he tried to avoid her completely, and he and Danny would wind up in the woods, messing around. He had shown Danny Sandy, foolishly not thinking about how taxing it would be on the teen. It was so normal to him, raising her corpse to play. Danny didn’t say much at first, just turned a ghastly pale color and gagged a couple of times. Jacob was a little saddened at that, but after a while, Danny came around. Jacob suspected he just forced himself to be calm for his sake. 

Unfortunately, the very day Sandy met Danny, it was also her last resurrection. She had become too decayed over the days—over the weeks—and she couldn’t hold herself to together. Jacob could use stronger necromancy to hold her together with magic, but that required delving deeper into his power…into the corrupted depths of his soul. The corruption never left since the first time it stained his purity, and since, it had been slowly growing. Sometimes Jacob found it difficult to fend off its temptations and halt its suggestions. His attempts to push it back were failing, and every day he crept closer and closer to losing his mind. He had become very good at fooling himself into thinking that everything would be alright, that everything would work out. Deep down, though, he knew it wouldn’t. 

The days went on and the more time he spent alone with Danny, the more anxious he felt. He loved spending time with him, loved it more than anything else in the world. But it was in the peace of their time together that the corruption called to him the most. It seemed to feed off killing the happiness inside Jacob’s heart, so with every blissful moment, it stirred. Most recently, it had been whispering to him from deep in his soul, telling him to…kill things. It didn’t tell him to kill _people_ , just small things. A cricket hopping in the grass. A bird resting on a branch. The thing that scared Jacob the most, though, was that he wanted to. He felt such an overwhelming erg to kill the creatures. Just kill them. For no reason other than existing… But he fought the erg, because he knew it was wrong. He tried so hard. It seemed like he was always trying. Trying to hang on to something that seemed damned long ago. 

So it didn’t surprise him, not in the slightest, when the corruption taunted him further. He was lying in bed with Danny asleep and curled against his side, naked skin on skin, when he felt the corruption well up inside him. His gaze was tracking small movements in the far corner, the darkness of night flooding the room. It would be difficult to see, but after lying awake in the darkness for hours, his eyes had adjusted, and he could see clearly a spider shaping a web. He watched, fascinated, as it dropped from a strand of web and brought it over to connect to the other side of the wall, building its snare up in the corner of the ceiling. _Kill it_ … the corruption whispered. Jacob ignored it and tried to turn away, but his gaze soon found its way back to the spider.

The spider was oblivious to the whole thing, continuing on its mission. Jacob watched it, grinding his teeth against the urge to obey the corruption. _Kill it_ … No! He can’t! He won’t! Minutes passed and the spider finished its web, settling in its center, waiting for prey to fall victim to its trap. Jacob was sweating, then, with the physical effort it took to not simply end its life. It was innocent, oblivious to the turmoil inside his heart. But nonetheless, the corruption pushed. _KILL IT_!... It hissed in his ear, seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere around him, seeping into his mind. He could feel it slithering around inside of him, nipping at his heels. _KILL_! And that was it, Jacob crumbled. 

It was such a disappointment, to resist for so long, to gather so much strength, only to have it shatter in a moment. He lost his control, lost his will to fight in a split second and without warning. There was no build up, no epic battle of wills until only one was left standing. He merely…caved. He could feel the shift of power, the way the corruption seemed to expand freely, without hindrance. It had won, and strangely, Jacob didn’t feel resistance. “Venire.” Jacob whispered into the night, extending a hand at the arachnoid. The spider was plucked from its web and floated over to Jacob, stopping and inch from his fingers. He watched as the spider struggled against his magical hold, its legs squirming and writhing as it tried to escape. Then, with a blink of his eyes, turning white as he activated his power, the spider was ignited. It burned for only a few short moments, the fire hot and intense. Its legs were spasmodic, but it took even less time before they stopped. Soon, it was nothing but a tiny plume of ashes floating down against the blanket. Jacob would be lying if he said he wasn’t sickened by what he had just done, but he would also be lying if he said he didn’t find pleasure in it. 

The corruption purred in approval and Jacob felt its tendrils snake further into his being. He felt a charged surge in the air and his stomach dropped. He locked eyes with the spirit of his grandpa…of the Wraith, both staring at each other in silence. Jacob was afraid, but another part of him wasn’t, a stronger part of him wasn’t. He wanted to scream and to banish the spirit, but that same part of him was pleased of his presence. More time passed, his grandpa’s face a mirthful guise all the while.

(~O\/O~)

“Awww, come on, man, you’re not even trying!” Stiles whined as yet another M&M bounced off Derek’s face. The werewolf was trying to concentrate on a book he was reading, but Stiles was bored! He had taken up a position behind the sofa and was bombarding Derek with the small, chocolate candies. Derek’s lips were pressed thin, but it looked more like he was fighting away a smile than getting irritated. “Ok, at least _try_ this time. Catch it in your mouth. Ready?... go!” Stiles threw another candy at him Derek turned to look at him and raise an eyebrow, and the M &M bounced off his forehead.

“Derek! Come on!” Derek shook his head and returned to reading his book. Alright, no more Mr. Nice Stiles! Stiles tipped the bag of candies and poured himself a handful. “Barrage imminent!” he wailed, and tossed them all at Derek. Derek turned his head again to see what Stiles was yelling about and all the chocolate projectiles collided with his face. There was a long moment where Derek was still stunned and Stiles was unsure of what to do, but when Derek’s eyes narrowed, flashing a vibrant red, and he started to growl, Stiles new he was screwed.

“Oh shit… Tactical retreat!!!” Stiles yelled, bolting for the stairs. Derek was too fast, though, and Stiles barely made it halfway up before he grabbed his leg and tripped him. Stiles’ body was dragged down and then hauled up as Derek pressed him against the wall, pinning him there. Stiles mewled at their proximity, the heat from Derek seeping into his skin. Derek’s face was inches away from his.

“Stiles?” Derek said in an even and wily tone.

“Yes, Derek?”

“Stop. Throwing. Candy at me!” Although Derek was trying to put up a front of ‘badass fun-killer’, Stiles knew he was enjoying himself. 

“I wasn’t throwing, them _at_ you, I was throwing them _to_ you. You just wouldn’t catch them in your mouth!”

“You expected me to catch all those…in my mouth?...” Derek deadpanned.

“I—Well no, I… You weren’t being any fun!” Stiles stuck his tongue out at Derek only to slip back in when Derek nipped at it. Derek leaned forward and nibbled on Stiles bottom lip, coaxing a small moan from him. 

“I can be fun…” Derek gripped Stiles hips and smashed their lips together, forcing his tongue into Stiles mouth. Stiles moaned again and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck. Stiles didn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling of someone else’s tongue in his mouth, but he really didn’t care, just as long as that tongue was Derek’s. The kiss soon became hotter and more passionate, and when Derek slipped a hand down Stiles’ pants and grabbed his cock, he found it difficult to stand. It was awkward, the way their bodies moved when Stiles bucked up into Derek’s fist. Derek held his arm at a strange angle and was unable to get a decent grip with Stiles’ pants still buttoned. 

They continued like that for a while, Stiles bucking into Derek’s fist and Derek holding his arm twisted and uncomfortable, before Stiles broke the kiss. He brought his arms down from around Derek’s neck and worked on unbuttoning his jeans. His shaky hands failed a few times, he but soon unlatched the button and slid the zipper down. Stiles gasped and moaned out a ‘fuck’ when Derek took advantage of the freedom to pump harder and faster at a much better angle.  
“Derek, slow down or I’m gonna cum.” Stiles breathed, slumping against him and resting his chin on Derek’s shoulder. “That’s the idea, Stiles.” Derek said, equally breathy.

Stiles didn’t want to cum so soon, and he definitely didn’t want to do it without Derek getting something out of it. He moved his hands and unbuttoned Derek’s jeans, grabbing a hold of him and pumping him, matching his own speed. Derek growled deep in his chest, and it didn’t take long before he was breathing heavily with pleasure. The air was filled with pants, huffed praises, and strained expletives. A twist of a hand pulling out a moan. An exposed neck begging to have bites trailed up soft skin. The scratch of stubble against cheeks. It wasn’t long before Stiles was close, and it became difficult to match Derek’s speed. It wasn’t fair that the werewolf had so much more stamina and could out-last him. Derek seemed to sense that Stiles was close and he started to speed up, his pace becoming one that only a werewolf could achieve.

Stiles’ bones felt like they were turning to jelly, and he absolutely couldn’t hold himself up while Derek was putting him through that amount of pleasure. He abandoned Derek’s dick and wrapped his arms back around his neck, quite literally hanging on for dear life while Derek pushed him further. He wouldn’t last much longer, he could feel his orgasm building. Derek started to bite along his neck with his elongated teeth, and that was it. Stiles dug his fingers into Derek’s back as his orgasm ripped through him, cumming hard on Derek’s hand and on their shirts. 

Stiles hung on to Derek, his body no more useful than a wet noodle. He really loved moments like this. He could never achieve such an amazing climax with just himself and his hand. Not to say that Derek was just tool for his pleasures—Stiles giggled, weakly, at the word ‘tool’—but he truly loved the way Derek could take him places he never thought he could go. A few moments passed as Stiles enjoyed the afterglow, Derek still biting at his neck, before he realized that Derek was grinding against him, his dick still rock hard. 

Stiles didn’t get him off, and it seemed like Derek really needed it. Derek seemed to have pried his way into Stiles’ mind, because he was guiding Stiles’ hand back inside his pants. Stiles gripped his throbbing member, squeezing with as much energy as he could muster. After his orgasm, though, he didn’t have much. Derek growled, thrusting into Stiles’ fist and seeking the pleasure that Stiles couldn’t give him. “Wait…” Stiles said. Derek looked at him with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide. “What?...” He asked. He sounded distressed, not sure why Stiles stopped. Stiles didn’t answer, just took his hand out of Derek’s pants and gripped his biceps, turning them so Derek’s back was against the wall. “What are you doing?” Derek asked. Stiles still didn’t answer, just slowly sank to his knees in front of Derek, his head level right his Derek’s crotch. Derek watched him with fascination as Stiles pulled down his pants and boxers a little more, letting his dick free. 

Stiles’ had seen Derek’s cock before, but somehow it seemed a little larger and more intimidating when it was in his face. At the same time, though, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. For some reason Stiles became fascinated with the small twitches it would give, and he was locked into a trance. Derek must have gotten impatient, though, because it was broken when he ran his fingers over Stiles’ cheek. Stiles looked up at him. Derek was panting and sweating, looking altogether wrecked with anticipation. But there was something else in his expression, in his eyes and in the way his jaw flared when he clenched his teeth. Hesitance. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” Derek panted, his voice a hard grit. Stiles nodded and took Derek’s cock in hand.

He wasn’t exactly sure where to start, so he tentatively flicked his tongue over the tip. Derek sucked in a gasp which encouraged Stiles to lick it again. Well this was…different. Derek growled when Stiles—apparently—stopped and just stared at his dick, which just urged him on even more. He took the tip—which felt much larger in his mouth than he expected—into his mouth and suckled it. Derek grunted and thrust his hips forward, but only slightly. It started Stiles a little, but he kept going on, taking more of Derek into his mouth. After a while of just sucking and listening to Derek moans, Stiles decided that giving a blowjob wasn’t exactly as bad as he thought it would be. In fact, it was kind of nice. Especially the satisfaction he felt at being able to make Derek squirm.

Stiles became more adventurous, swirling his tongue around the organ and licking up its base. He paid special attention to the underside of the head when Derek practically barked with pleasure. Ha…barked… He licked the underside of the head with a flat tongue for a while before he started teasing Derek with the tip. Derek’s fingers found their way into his hair and started tugging. It was a little painful, but Stiles wasn’t afraid to admit he kind of liked it. When he continued teasing Derek, however, the werewolf must have gotten impatient, because Stiles soon found his head being pulled forward, Derek thrusting into his mouth. Stiles gagged a little when Derek pushed a little deeper than was comfortable for him. “Fuck!” Derek cursed. Stiles didn’t like him being so rough with him. Well…that was a lie. He didn’t really mind it at all. What he _did_ mind, though, was Derek being so rough when it was Stiles first time. Stiles wanted to be the one controlling the pace.

He swatted Derek’s hands away and pulled off of him, looking up at him with a stern face. “Derek, let me. Please?” Derek eyes widened a little. “I’m sorry.” He said. Stiles flashed him a smile to let him know it was all right and then just jumped back in. He took Derek back in his mouth and started bobbing his head, combining the movement with swirls of his tongue. Derek seemed to be enjoying it, if the string of curses he was moaning was any indication. Derek’s fingers started tugging at his hair again. Stiles looked up at him, silently pleading for him to control himself. He really didn’t have to worry, though, as Derek was usually pretty good about forcing himself to stay in control. After that, Stiles started to get into a rhythm. Bob, bob, bob. Pause. Suck the tip. Repeat. He wasn’t brave enough to try deep throating, though. He’d save that for another time. 

Derek had to remind him a few times about his teeth, making Stiles a little embarrassed. As much as he wished he could be some sort of prodigy at giving head, he knew that was a little unrealistic. Derek took up thrusting his hips again, even though it looked like he was practically killing himself in an effort not to. It didn’t really matter much, because Stiles started to get used to the action, so he just let him. He didn’t know exactly how long they were at it, but soon Derek was tugging harder at his hair and his breaths were becoming heavy. “Stiles, I’m about to cum!” he warned. 

This was it, the moment of truth. Stiles had read that it was “enjoyable” for the receiving party if the ‘giver’ was to let him cum in his mouth. He was ready. “Stiles…” Derek warned again, trying to pull him off, but Stiles was having none of that. Eventually—meaning after about a second—Derek gave up, and with a roar—an actual legitimate roar—he came in Stiles’ mouth. It was safe to say that it was _not_ what Stiles had been expecting. Actually, he really didn’t know what he had been expecting. The taste wasn’t actually that bad, really, but the feel… He was so completely unprepared for the viscosity of it. He gagged a little, and that just made it worse, leading to him heaving. “Stiles, are you okay?” Derek asked, tucking himself back in his boxers and zipping his pants up. He knelt down next to Stiles who was nodding his head frantically, trying to convince him he was. He failed.

“Stiles, you don’t have…” Derek paused, rubbing a thumb over the back of Stiles’ hand, “You don’t have to swallow. Go spit it out.” Stiles had his nose crinkled up, looking around the room, desperately, like something would help. Yes. Spit. Spitting was good. They both rose to their feet and Stiles ran for the sink in the kitchen, spitting with less grace than he had hoped. He turned on the sink and washed down the glob that came from his mouth, leaning down to gargle and rinse with some water. Derek came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him, pulling his back against his chest and resting his head on his shoulder. “Was it really that bad?...” Derek asked timidly. Stiles chuckled at that. “No, it wasn’t bad. I just…it felt weird.” Derek kissed his neck. 

“Hopefully it wasn’t too yucky.” He said. Stiles blinked in shock.

“Yucky?... Did that word really just pass your lips?” Stiles asked in disbelief. Stiles couldn’t see Derek’s face, but he felt the smile against his skin. Damn, he loved Derek.

Stiles paused. Love? Did he really love Derek? He thought about it for a while. There was evidence. The way his heart fluttered when Derek kissed him. The way it ached to be apart from him on the few occasions his father wanted to spend quality time. The way he couldn’t imagine life without him anymore. It was a scary thought, even though he knew it shouldn’t be. Stiles was rigid and he felt clumsy around the man that was planting kisses up his neck. He knew it was silly to feel awkward when Derek had no idea what he was thinking, but he did any way. Derek seemed to sense his discomfort. “Are you alright, Stiles?” Stiles’ heart was thundering in his chest, which he knew Derek could hear. 

“Derek. I think… I think I—” Stiles stopped and cleared his throat. No, he couldn’t. Not yet. He just…couldn’t. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He turned around in Derek’s arms and attempted a reassuring smile. Derek eyed him suspiciously, but dropped it anyway. Stiles kissed him, a quick peck on the lips, and then glanced over at the time. It was late, almost midnight. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.” He led Derek upstairs by the hand, the thought of love still rolling around in his head.

(~O\/O~)

Deaton closed the glass cabinet with a _click_ after putting away the last of his supplies. He had been working late—very late—into the night, and he was glad that he could finally go home and rest. He gathered his things and pulled on his coat, shutting off the main lights in the clinic, leaving the room dim and full of shadows, when he heard the jingle of the front door-bell. He froze, not so much in fear, just out of instinct. Now that was strange, he was sure he had locked the front door. Who could that be at this hour, anyway? Maybe Scott? Derek? Deaton sighed and turned to wait for the ‘intruder’ to come into the back. If it was some kind of robbery, he knew he could handle it with ease, but he was certain it wasn’t.

Deaton stared at the doorway that led to the front lobby for a long while before a figure came into the light from the darkness. A tall woman with flowing golden hair stood in front of him. She was young and beautiful with fair, pale skin and flashing ice-blue eyes. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. He knew her. An old friend. A very…old friend. Although they kept in touch, he hadn’t seen her in person for years. Many, many years… Strange. What was she doing here? And why was she…like this? 

“Pamela?” He asked, even though he knew it was her, “What are you doing here? Why are you?...” He trailed of, gesturing his hand up and down at her. She finished his sentence. 

“Like this? We haven’t seen each other in so long, I wasn’t sure you’d recognize me in my older form.” She flashed him a smile of perfect white teeth, and he couldn’t help but return one of his own. It faded, though, when the tension in the room picked up.

“Forgive me if I sound rude, but why exactly are you here?” It was nice to see an old friend, but he knew that with her arrival, there was bad news. It was only confirmed when her smile faded as well.

“Something’s wrong, Alan. There was a change in the Spirit Plane tonight. A shift.” Deaton’s brow furrowed.

“A shift? I didn’t feel anything.” He said.

“You and I both know that I possess more of an aptitude for the Plane than you. I am a Valkyrie after all. It’s my business.” They both kept their distance, neither one approaching the other. Whether it was a comfortable distance or an awkward one… Deaton wasn’t sure.

“What is happening?”

“I don’t know for sure.” Pamela said, “But I can feel it. Something is forcing its way from the Depths. Something evil…”

“Impossible. We have precautions, wards and rules, to prevent that from happening. There is no way—” Deaton was interrupted by a deep voice from an unseen source. “Alan.” It said. Deaton’s focus turned to the blackness of the doorway as a figure stepped through. He wore a long, black trench-coat coat and a black fedora hat with a red band around it. His hands and face were wrapped in ribbons of white cloth, resembling a mummy. He was completely covered from head to toe. Everything but his mouth and his eyes, which, when he removed the sunglasses he had been wearing—even though it was night out—revealed almost luminescent light-violet eyes. His right hand flipped a coin and he examined its face with a sigh. 

“Burt?” Deaton asked. It was _truly_ a surprise to see him! He very rarely ventured out into public, even in the old days. He gave Deaton no answer, but he wasn’t really expecting one. Burt continued.

“You should listen to her.” He said, “There’s been a shift in luck as well. A shift in Fate. Something is seriously wrong here.” Deaton sighed. This was just what they needed. The Hale pack was fragile right now, fighting the Tengu. He wasn’t sure if they could handle another threat. A greater threat. Whatever was out there, it must be extremely bad if it had Pamela and Burt spooked. The two guests made their way inside and sat down on some chairs. Deaton removed his coat and made his way over to the coffee-maker. 

It was going to be a longer night than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I havn't updated in a while. I'm gettng back to it. If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!

**Author's Note:**

> Bear with me, I'm new to Ao3. This was originally posted on FanFiction.net (pen name: Monk of the North) , but I thought I'd try my hand here. If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!


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